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Mrs. JOSEPH RUDD Greenwood

21 EAST 82ND STREET
NEW YORK CITY

EDITION LIMITED TO ONE HUNDRED
COPIES, OF WHICH THIS IS

NUMBER

a

THE REVOLUTIONARY
SERVICES OF

JOHN GREENWOOD

OF BOSTON AND NEW YORK

I775-I783

THE REVOLUTIONARY
SERVICES OF

JOHN GREENWOOD

OF BOSTON AND NEW YORK

1775-1783

edited from the Original <:yK{anuscript

WITH NOTES BY HIS GRANDSON

ISAAC J. GREENWOOD

NEW YORK
1922

Copyright, 1923, by
Joseph R. Greenwood

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NOTE

This record of the Revolutionary services of John Green-
wood, of which his grandson, Isaac John Greenwood, is
the editor and annotator, was ready for the press at the
time of the latter's death. Publication has been delayed,
first by the production of another book giving the Revolu-
tionary record of Captain John Manley, of which Mr.
Greenwood was the author, and later by the entry of the
United States into the World War, which directed all
energies to matters of immediate concern. This limited
edition is now published in accordance with the editor's
wishes, and it is peculiarly fitting that this simple record
of a gentleman's services in America's first war should
appear just after the country has emerged victorious from
the greatest war the world has ever known.

J. R. G.

CONTENTS

PAGE

Introduction xv

Chapter I

His youth ; enlistment in Captain Theodore T.
Bliss's (Boston) company as a fifer; company
joined to Colonel J. Patterson's Massachusetts
regiment; battle of Bunker Hill; his mother
permitted to return to Boston 3

Chapter H

Siege and evacuation of Boston ; regiment ordered
to Canada; part taken prisoners at the Cedars;
General Arnold signs a cartel and gives host-
ages to the enemy 20

Chapter HI

Retreat from Canada to Ticonderoga; regiment
joins General Washington in New Jersey; battle
of Trenton ; Greenwood leaves the army 34

Chapter IV
Sails with Captain Manley in the Cumberland;

A PRISONER IN THE BaRBADOES ; RELEASE AND RETURN
HOME 48

Chapter V

Sails with Captain D. Porter in the Tartar; many
prizes taken; vessel sinks at Port-au-Prince;
returns in the General Lincoln, Captain J.
Carnes; is captured and taken to New York;
eludes imprisonment and again reaches Boston. . 63

CONTENTS— Continued

PAGE

Chapter VI
Again sails with Captain Porter, on the Aurora,

AND LATER ON THE RaCE H ORSE, CaPTAIN N.

Thayer; carries a prize brig into Tobago; buys
A schooner, trades on the Chesapeake, and is

TAKEN BY JOE WaLEN's GALLEY ReVENGE; RECOVERS
HIS SCHOONER AND REACHES BALTIMORE WITH THE
PRIZE-CREW 72

Chapter VII

Makes two voyages to Saint Ehstatius in the
Baltimore armed schooner Resolution , on
second trip, when captain, is taken by the frigate
Santa Margaretta ; prisoner the fourth time at
Kingston, Jamaica ; hostilities ceasing, he reaches
New York on an English cutter and thence re-
turns HOME 84

ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES

1 The North Writing School, Boston, and

master, John Tileston 91

2 William H. Montague, of Boston ; a talk in

1847 WITH Dr. W. p. Greenwood and Mr.
Isaac Cazneau 92

3 Samuel Maverick; a victim of the Boston

Massacre 93

4 Captain Martin Gay of the Ancient and

Honorable Artillery, and of the Boston
Artillery Company 93

5 Lieutenant John Greenwood of Falmouth

(now Portland), Maine 94

6 The attack on Falmouth, Maine, by the

Canso 95

7 Corporal Hardy Pierce, of Captain T. T. Bliss's

company; afterward lieutenant of Captain

E. Stevens's artillery company 96

8 Rev. Winwood Serjeant, of Christ Church,

Cambridge, Massachusetts, afterward of
Bristol, England 96

CONTENTS— Continued

PAGE

9 Elizabeth (Clarke) Hale, of Beverly, widow

OF Colonel Robert Hale 97

ID Mary (Fans) Greenwood, of Boston (with
portrait) ; her brother-in-law, Colonel
Thomas Walker, of Montreal and Boston . . 97

11 General Ward's reserve forces, June 17, 1775,

TIME OF the Bunker Hill fight 98

12 Colonel John Patterson, of Lenox, Massachu-

setts 99

13 Captain Theodore Thomas Bliss, of Boston. . . 100

14 Position of Patterson's regiment after the

BATTLE, etc IO5

15 Isaac Greenwood, of Boston; extract from his

"Revolutionary Memoir" io6

16 Lieutenant-Colonel George Clark's (of the

43D Regiment of Foot) foraging party on
Lechmere's Point, and its repulse 112

17 Sniping with powder from the British shells. . 113

18 Draft from Patterson's regiment for Colonel

Arnold's expedition 113

19 Houses left in Charlestown fired by the

Americans 114

20 Troops sent to New York; regiments ordered

TO Canada 115

21 Change of Command in Canada 116

22 Americans fall into an ambuscade planned by

Captain George Forster and Brant 118

23 Colonel Henry Sherburne, of Newport, Rhode

Island, former major of Colonel Patterson's
(Massachusetts) regiment 120

24 Arnold's retreat from Montreal 124

25 Regiments ordered to join Washington 125

26 Battle of Trenton 125

27 Captain John Manley's flag on the Cumber-

land PRIVATEER 1 26

28 The Cumberland captured by the Pomona

FRIGATE 127

29 Thomas Pratt, of Chelsea, Massachusetts, a

survivor of the cumberland, l8l i 1 28

30 Favorite songs of John Greenwood 128

31 Captain David Porter, of Boston, privateers-

man, father of Commander D. Porter, U.S.N. 130

32 Prizes of Captain D, Porter 130

CONTENTS— Continued

PAGE

33 Captain John (or Jonathan) Carnes, of Salem,

privateersman 13^

34 David Sproat, commissary for naval prisoners

IN New York 132

35 Edward Watkeys, soap and candle maker, New

York 132

36 Captain Nathaniel Thayer, of the Race

Horse, privateer 133

37 Movements of Cornwallis and Washington in

Virginia 1 33

38 Joseph Whayland, Jr., a British privateersman

on the Chesapeake; Lord Dunmore's former
pilot 133

39 Armed schooner Resolution, former tender

OF THE Maryland state ship Defence, Cap-
tain James Nicholson 137

40 British frigate Santa Margaretta, Captain

E, Salter 138

41 Henry Nicholls, captain of the English cutter

Barracouta, fourteen guns; afterward com-
manded the Royal Sovereign, no guns 138

42 Later voyages and events in life of John

Greenwood 139

Appendix A

Colonel John Patterson's Massachusetts regi-
ment ; ITS field, staff, and commissioned officers,

1775 AND 1776 142

Appendix B

Colonel Thomas Walker, of Montreal and
Boston; his children and grandchildren 151

C™]

ILLUSTRATIONS

John Greenwood, about 1795, after portrait by William

L(OVett Frontispiece

Facing page

House of Lieutenant John Greenwood on Middle Street,
Falmouth (Portland), Maine, 1770-1856 6

Facsimile from the "Revolutionary Memoir" 50

Mrs. Mary (Fans) Greenwood, of Boston, mother of
John, after portrait by William Lovett 97

No. 199 Water Street, northeast corner of Wall Street,
where John Greenwood first lived in New York, in 1873. 139

Colonel Thomas Walker's house on Notre Dame Street,
Montreal, 1720-1890, where the Congressional Com-
missioners lived 151

INTRODUCTION

The following record of events, written by John
Greenwood during the year 1809, at such leisure mo-
ments as the arduous duties of a professional life per-
mitted, presents in plain and simple style, but bright
and clear as when first impressed upon the brain of
youth, the varied scenes which he had beheld, and the
hardships which he had encountered, in the service of
his country throughout the War of the Revolution.
Twenty-five to thirty-five years had passed since their
occurrence, yet though in his statements he depended
wholly upon memory, there is scarce an incident re-
lated which the annotator, in the course of an exten-
sive historical reading, has not found corroborated.
Precise dates alone appear to have been forgotten,
and these, so far as possible, are now supplied. If
the notes introduced add but little to the text, it is
hoped that they may prove of some value to the student
of history.

As a voucher for the truth of whatever pertains to
Colonel Patterson's regiment, there was formerly
attached to the original manuscript an autograph letter
of Major Henry Sherburne, but repeated search among
family papers has failed to bring the document to light.
All we know about it is from a penciled memorandum
on the cover by John Greenwood himself, which reads
as follows: "Col. Sherburne, who wrote the introduc-
tory letter, was Treasurer of the State of Rhode Island ;
he is now living, Sept., 18 10."

Much of stirring adventure was undoubtedly left
unrecounted, and his son, Dr. I. J. Greenwood, often
expressed regret that he had not foregone the pleasures
of youth a little and, acting as amanuensis, made record
from time to time of the abundant flow of humor and
anecdote with which his father was wont to amuse his
friends and children.

In the manuscript a period of two entire years, 1777
and 1778, is passed over inadvertently, without a word.
It would appear, however, that about the year 1777
Greenwood was engaged in the codfisheries off the
coast, for he would relate how that, being a green
hand and employed in stowing the fish, he was advised
to pour warm tar in his boots to protect his feet from
the brine, and that the boots had to be worn until split
off on his arrival home. We know also from the
Massachusetts Revolutionary Rolls^ that he was on
a three months' service, from February 13, 1778, as
fifer in the company of Captain John Hinckley's Boston
Light Infantry, Lieutenant-Colonel Andrew Symmes's
Detachment of Guards, on duty in the town under
Major-General William Heath at a period when the
forces of Burgoyne's army were encamped, as prisoners,
in the vicinity.

Many opportunities were enjoyed also by Dr. Green-
wood of meeting persons who, having known his father
in earlier years, could furnish him with amusing anec-
dotes in connection with his father's life. A pleas-
ing incident, related in October, 1823, by an old lady
whose name has not been preserved, seems to show
that Greenwood was again called out on service during
the year 1778, when the American army was forming
"a cordon about Manhattan Island, from Danbury in
Connecticut to Elizabethtown in New Jersey." Gen-
eral Washington had crossed with his forces to the
easterly side of the Hudson River, and about July
1 Vol. XX, p. i.

C xvi 3

20 his headquarters was established at White Plains.
The Independent Company of Colonel Hitchborn and
the Light Infantry Company of Captain Hinckley set
out from Boston on Friday, August 7, for "headquar-
ters." Unfortunately the Boston correspondent of the
Pennsylvania Packet of August 25 does not indicate
whether he refers to White Plains, New York, or
Tiverton, Rhode Island.

"Sunt delicta tamen, quibus ignovisse velimus,"

I give the story as I find it.

The company to which Greenwood belonged was
encamped near White Plains upon the grounds of a
wealthy Englishman, a neutral who resided in the
neighborhood. This gentleman on one occasion, while
out driving with his daughter (who tells the story),
saw our young fifer sick and suffering from fever and
ague, and brought him to his own house, where through
kindness and woman's care he soon recovered. The
good-natured boy, always cheerful and willing to lend
a hand about the premises, soon won the regard of
every member of the family; the eldest son would take
him out for a drive in fine weather, and the old lady
of the house never failed to remember him when mak-
ing up a batch of pies.

About this time a band of Skinners, anxious for
plunder, made up their minds to burn and sack the
place, on the plea that its occupant, though professedly
a neutral, was virtually attached to the loyalist cause.
The house was accordingly surrounded and its inmates
called upon to surrender. The captain of the neighbor-
ing militia company, informed of this proceeding but
aware of the old gentleman's neutrality, was undecided
how to act, and determined to leave it altogether to
his men. He therefore paraded them and ordered all
in favor of defending the premises to raise their hats
upon their muskets, and about half immediately re-

Cxvii]

sponded to the appeal. The rest remaining irresolute,
little John the fifer, together with the drummer of the
company, was unremitting in his endeavors to per-
suade them, and soon, every man feeling convinced
of his duty, the marauders were driven off.

While in the marine service and a prisoner. Green-
wood received a severe scald, the marks of which he
bore through life on one of his limbs. He said a
person named Mumford, carrying a vessel of soup
one day, and not observing him lying at length upon
the ground, had stumbled over his body and deluged
him with the hot and greasy liquid. This story was
confirmed in July, 1837, by a gentleman named Mount-
fort, who said the party above alluded to was his
own father; doubtless Joseph Mountfort,^ of Boston,
who had served under Commodore John Manley.

Again, while in the West Indies, the precise time
and locality not given, Mr. Greenwood on one oc-
casion saw an aged negro fishing from the end of a
wharf who professed to have been a cabin-boy to the
notorious pirate John Teach, or "Black Beard," who
was captured and killed in November, 17 17. Michael
Scott, in his "Tom Cringle's Log," mentions this char-
acter as still living in 18 12, at New Providence, aged
about 1 10 years.

The earliest incident connected with John Green-
wood's life is that, when quite young, he was taken
out one day for a walk, escorted by a negro boy be-
longing to the family; when, attracted by the music
and brilliant show of some passing soldiers, they fol-
lowed along until the tired child was told to wait awhile
and rest in a neighboring shop. Oblivious as to where
he had left his charge, the negro finally returned home
empty-handed, and Johnny had to be recovered by the
aid of the town-crler.

2"N. E. Hist. Geneal. Reg.," Vol. XL, p. 116. Born February

3, 1750.

C xvlil ]

This Incident evidently refers to the landing, on
Saturday, October i, 1768, of some regular troops,-^
"the Hancock Regiments," as the people called them,
which marched from Long Wharf to the common "with
muskets charged, bayonets fixed, colours flying, drums
beating, some of the drummers being negroes, and
fifes playing."^ As late as 1770 Bailey's English Dic-
tionary gives the word "fife or fiffaro, Ital.," as a pipe
or wind-instrument, "used by the Germans, with a
drum, in the army." Grose, however, in his "Military
Antiquities," 1786, says that fifes were revived in the
English army about 1745 by the Duke of Cumberland,
who first "introduced them into the Guards." They
were a novelty, evidently, to the Bostonians, and in
March, 1769, an announcement can be read in the daily
papers of a musical entertainment in the Concert Hall
on Queen Street, for the benefit of the fife-major of
the 29th Regiment. We may depend upon it that
the "Yankee Doodle Song" of Surgeon Shuckburgh
was much played by the British fifers. It was stir-
ring music and had its effect, a very lasting one, upon
little John, who, with indefatigable zeal and persever-
ance, as we learn from the memoir, was soon play-
ing upon a fife of his own, with a militia company of
his fellow-townsmen, commanded by Captain Martin
Gay, marching at his heels.

In the winter of 182 1-2 John W. Greenwood, then
a pupil of Phillips Academy, Andover, was fasten-
ing his skates in the cabin of an old gray-headed negro
at the edge of a frozen pond, when, glancing up, he
observed a framed copy of his family arms over
the chimneypiece, which, said old ebony, had belonged
to his master, Mr. Greenwood, of Boston. Quite likely
he was the same house-servant who had taken such

^ The 14th, 29th, a detachment of the 59th, and a company of
the Artillery Train with two cannons.

* Gentleman's Magazine, 1768, pp. 511 and 512.

indifferent care of the boy's father fifty years pre-
vious.

No relic in connection with his services, over which
the stirring events which marked the Revolution might
have cast a halo, has come down to the present gen-
eration save the blade of the sword which he took,
as he relates, from the body of a Hessian artillery-
man at Trenton, and a manuscript music-book upon
which he set great store as having been given him by
an English fifer. The tunes are all English, but the
water-mark^ of the paper being foreign, I am led
to suppose this also is a memento of the battle of
Trenton. Greenwood's regiment was appointed to
guard the Hessian prisoners across the river, and
among them was their band of nine musicians, who
participated next year in the celebration of July 4
at Philadelphia. The fife which had cheered "the
15th" onward through many a weary march was
thoughtlessly given away^ by Dr. I. J. Greenwood
about 1 830, and has long since, we may presume, passed
into oblivion.

A few words relative to the parentage of John Green-
wood may not be amiss. His father, Isaac Greenwood,
of Boston, resided previously and for some time subse-
quent to the war on the east side of Salem Street, the
garden of his house adjoining the Second Episcopal, or
Christ, Church. Here he carried on the business of
ivory-turning and, as an adjunct of the same, the pro-
fession of dentistry, much after the manner of his friend
Paul Revere, the goldsmith,'^ who was located at the

° Within a circular band, surmounted by a crown, and inscribed
"Pro Patria Ejusque Libertate"; standing erect on a low square
pedestal, bearing the word "Vryheit," a crowned Hon carrying
over his left shoulder a long staff surmounted by a liberty-cap.

^ To his agent, Mr. William K. Newton.

"^ They both "learnt the method from Mr. John Baker," a
London surgeon dentist who visited Boston and New York in
1768.

head of Clarke's Wharf. To the above occupations was
added the manufacture of "kitisols, umbrelloes," and
mathematical instruments, and he is said to have con-
structed the first electrical machine made for Franklin
in Boston. His ingenuity in the arrangement of scien-
tific apparatus was probably inherited from his father,
of the same name, who had filled the first HoUisian pro-
fessorship of mathematics and natural philosophy in
Harvard College, Cambridge. Professor Isaac Green-
wood was the son of Samuel and Elizabeth (Bronsdon)
Greenwood, and the grandson of Nathaniel, a young
shipwright who came to Boston about 1654. The lat-
ter was the eldest child of Miles Greenwood, worsted
weaver of Norwich, England, and, according to family
tradition, a lieutenant and preacher under Oliver Crom-
well. Miles's father, also named Miles, was married
in 1599, in the church of St. Peter's of Mancroft, to
Ann Scath, of Barnham Brome.

John Greenwood, after the war, settled in New York,
and there died November 16, 18 19, in his sixtieth year.
A few days after this event a hale, hearty old gentle-
man called at the family residence. No. 13 Park Row,
having come, he said, to once more grasp the hand of
his old comrade and companion-in-arms before he left
this world; he had been the drum major* of the 15th
Massachusetts Regiment.

One who had evidently known John Greenwood per-
sonally writes : "He was a venerable man of great orig-
inality and shrewdness of mind on all subjects, a great

* This was probably Jonathan Kinney, of Boston, who enlisted
May 3, 1775, as the drummer of Captain Theo. T. Bliss's com-
pany. He served from May 8 to July 8, 1777, as a matross of
Captain Jonathan Stoddort's company, Colonel Th. Craft's ar-
tillery regiment, and as corporal, February 3 to May 2, 1779,
with the Guards at and about Boston, under Major-General
Gates, in Captain Caleb Champney's company. Greenwood
alludes to him under date of January 8, 1776.

reader and deep thinker, generous and chivalrous in dis-
position, of ready wit and full of the anecdote and lore
of the past. In his profession his expert and adroit
workmanship, bold ingenuity and resources under all
difficulties, acquired him a reputation that left him with-
out a competitor.""

I. J. G.

^ "Wealth and Pedigree of the Citizens of New York," 1842.
The portraits of John Greenwood and his mother, which are
introduced, are after originals painted by William Lovett, of Bos-
ton, about 1790.

C ^^'i ]

THE REVOLUTIONARY
SERVICES OF

JOHN GREENWOOD

OF BOSTON AND NEW YORK
1775-I783

Written from memory in New York,
February 14, 1809, by a person who
was in the Revolutionary War be-
tween Great Britain and America; re-
lating naught but facts, so strongly
imprinted upon the mind as never
to be forgotten.

CHAPTER I

His youth; enlistment in Captain Theodore T.
Bliss's (Boston) company as a fifer; company
joined to Colonel J. Patterson's Massa-
chusetts REGIMENT; BATTLE OF BUNKER HiLL;
his mother PERMITTED TO RETURN TO BoSTON

I WAS born in Boston, America, May 17, in the
year 1760, and educated in the North School (i)
until thirteen years of age; but as children were
not at that time taught what is called grammar, or
even correct spelling, it must not be expected to find
them in this relation. All that we learned was ac-
quired by the mere dint of having it thumped in, for
the two masters, who had to overlook and manage
some 300 or 400 boys, could pay little attention to us
except so far as flogging went, which right was rather
freely indulged in.

While I was at school the troubles commenced, and
I recollect very well of hearing the superstitious ac-
counts which were circulated around : people were cer-
tain a war was about to take place, for a great blazing
comet had appeared and armies of soldiery had been
seen fighting in the clouds overhead; and it was said
that the day of judgment was at hand, when the
moon would turn into blood and the world be set on
fire. These dismal stories became so often repeated
that the boys thought nothing of them, considering

C3]

that such events must come in the course of nature.
For my part, all I wished was that a church which
stood by the side of my father's garden (2) would
fall on me at the time these terrible things happened,
and crush me to death at once, so as to be out of pain
quick.

It must not be expected that I can give day or date
in my relation, as I cannot remember them.

I remember what is called the "Boston Massacre,"
when the British troops fired upon the inhabitants
and killed seven^ of them, one of whom was my father's
apprentice, a lad eighteen years of age, named Samuel
Maverick (3). I was his bedfellow, and after his
death I used to go to bed in the dark on purpose to
see his spirit, for I was so fond of him and he of me
that I was sure it would not hurt me. The people of
New England at that time pretty generally believed
in hobgoblins and spirits, that is the children at least
did.

About this period I commenced learning to play
upon the fife, and, trifling as it may seem to mention
the circumstance, it was, I believe, the sole cause of
my travels and disasters. I was so fond of hearing the
fife and drum played by the British that somehow or
other I got possession of an old split fife, and having
made it sound by puttying up the crack, learned to play
several tunes upon it sufficiently well to be fifer in the
militia company of Captain Gay (4). This was be-
fore the war some years, for I think I must have been
about nine or ten years old. The flag of the company
was English; so were they all then.

I saw the tea when it was destroyed at Boston, which
began the disturbance, and likewise beheld several
persons tarred and feathered and carried through the
town; they were tide-waiters, custom-house officers — I
think they called them informers.

^ Three were killed and eight wounded, two of them mortally.

1:43

At the age of thirteen I was sent eastward to a place
called Falmouth (Portland), 150 miles from Boston,
to live with my father's only brother (5), whom I was
named after. He was a cabinet-maker by trade but
had concerns in the shipping business likewise, and
was looked upon to be an able, or rich, man. His wife
was dead, he had no children, and I was his favorite.
The whole country at this time was in commotion and
nothing was talked of but war, liberty, or death; per-
sons of all descriptions were embodying themselves
into military companies, and every old drunken fellow
they found who had been a soldier, or understood what
is called the manual exercise, was employed of evenings
to drill them. My uncle was lieutenant of an inde-
pendent company (the Cadets), and of course I was
engaged to play the fife while they were learning to
march, a pistareen an evening for my services keeping
me in pocket-money. Being thus early thrown into the
society of men and having, as it were, imbibed the
ardor of a military spirit; being moreover the only
boy who knew how to play the fife in the place, I was
much caressed by them.

I stayed with my uncle two years, until the time
arrived when we had an account that the British troops
had marched out of Boston, attacked the country
people at a place called Lexington, and killed a number
of them (6). I had frequently been inclined to return
to Boston that I might see my father, mother, sister,
and brothers, but as I was not permitted to do so, I
took it into my head, saying nothing to any one about
it, to go alone on foot in the beginning of May, 1775.
The distance was 150 miles and the country so thinly
inhabited that I had to traverse, at times, woods seven
miles in length, and I had never traveled before more
than three or four miles by land into the country. I
concluded to set out on a Sunday, for then they would
not be so apt to miss me, and not having mentioned my

1:53

determination of going, they would not think it pos-
sible so young a boy would, without any manner of
cause, attempt such a journey. My reason for going
was I wished to see my parents, who, I was afraid,
would all be killed by the British, for, as I observed
before, nothing was talked of but murder and war.

Sunday morning, when in New England all is still
and no persons are in the streets, having eaten my break-
fast, I took a handkerchief and tied up in it two or
three shirts and a pair or two of stockings, and with
what clothes I had on my back and four and a half
pistareens in my pocket, jumped over the fence in the
back yard and set off. I walked rapidly through the
town without meeting any one I knew, as it was break-
fast-time, and when once beyond the outskirts, being
a very strong-constitutioned boy, off I went with a light
heart and a good pair of heels; sometimes I ran and
sometimes trotted like a horse, and I really believe I
accomplished forty miles the first day. I do not
recollect that I was the least tired during my whole
journey. As I traveled through the different towns
the people were preparing to march toward Boston to
fight, and as I had my fife with me — yes, and I was
armed likewise with my sword — I was greatly caressed
by them. Stopping at the taverns where there was
a muster, out came my fife and I played them a tune or
two; they used to ask me where I came from and where
I was going to, and when I told them I was going to
fight for my country, they were astonished such a little
boy, and alone, should have such courage. Thus by
the help of my fife I lived, as it were, on what is usually
called free-quarters nearly upon the entire route. ^

- On Lexington Day, April 19, 1775, Captain William H. Ballard
(later of Colonel James Frye's regiment) started his company with
a few men in Amesbury, Essex County, Massachusetts, and then
drummed up a number more, during the month of May, along the
New Hampshire coast. It does seem as if the recruiting sergeant

161

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As nigh as I can remember it took me four days and
a half to reach Charlestown, opposite Boston; but on
Charlestown Neck there stood a Yankee soldier or
sentry who stopped me, telling me that I must not go
past him. I attempted, however, to get by him and
run, when another fellow caught me and carried me
to the guard-house, which was a barn standing not far
off. Here I was kept all night, when they let me go,
informing me that in order to go down to Charlestown
ferry a pass must be obtained from General Ward, at
Cambridge; but by no means would I be permitted to
go into Boston to see my parents, as all communica-
tion was cut off between the British and the country
people. The war had begun, they told me ; the British
had marched out into the country to Lexington, to the
tune of "Yankee Doodle," but they had made them
dance it back again.

I immediately set off for Cambridge after my pass,
got it, and traveled back for Charlestown ferry; but
1 was not allowed, after two years' absence from home,
to go over and see my parents. Everything on the
opposite shore was familiar to me, and I was well
acquainted with the person who kept the ferry, Mr.
Enoch Hopkins, whose son used to go to school with
me. There I stood alone, without a friend or a house
to shelter me for the night, surrounded by women and
children, some crying and others in different situations
of distress, for the Boston people were flocking out of
town over the ferry in crowds, with what little furni-
ture they were permitted to take with them. The
British governor, or, more properly calling him,

came across John Greenwood tramping his way down from Fal-
mouth, for on his roll was entered: "John Greenwood of Boston,
May 14, Fifer, age 16." But, as John says, a light pair of heels
evidently carried the young fifer onward to his destination, and a
company roll, dated Cambridge, June 13, marks Greenwood
"absent." ("N. E. Hist. Geneal. Reg.," Vol. LX, p. 44.)

1:73

"Granny Gage," gave permission to the Inhabitants,
before the battle of Bunker Hill, to leave the town,
but placed a fellow by the name Cunningham** (the no-
torious master of the New York provost during the
war) at the ferry stairs, to search their trunks and
little bundles and take from the women and children
their pins, needles, and scissors, in short anything he
pleased, which, with his noted cruelty, he would throw
into the river while the poor helpless creatures were
weeping. O British magnanimity ! Brave fellows !

This, however, is nothing to their boasted valor.
They dared not show their faces to us over their breast-
works after Bunker Hill frolic. They then found out
to their sorrow what kind of stuff Yankees were made
of; they lost in killed and wounded in that battle up-
ward of iioo of their best troops, and we lost about
200. The British had ten men to our one, as history
will inform you, and I was an eye-witness.

But to return : Charlestown was at the time gener-
ally deserted by the inhabitants, and the houses were,
with few exceptions, empty; so, not knowing what to do
nor where to go and without a penny in my pockets,
if I remember rightly, I entered a very large tavern that
was filled with all descriptions of people. Here I saw
three or four persons whom I knew, and, my fife stick-
ing in the front of my coat, they asked me, after many
questions, to play them a tune. I complied forthwith,
but although the fife is somewhat of a noisy instru-
ment to play upon, it could hardly be heard for the din
and confusion around. Such a scene cannot be de-
scribed, nor hardly conceived, save by those who
have beheld something similar to it.

After I had rattled off several tunes, there was one

2 William Cunningham, an Irishman, provost marshal to the
royal army; executed in London for forging a draft on the Ord-
nance Board, August 10, 1791, aged fifty-three.

Hardy Pierce^ who, with Enoch Howard^ and three
or four others, invited me to go up to Cambridge to
their quarters, as they called it. When there they
tried to persuade me to enlist as a fifer, telling me
that it was only for eight months, and that I would
receive eight dollars a month and be found in pro-
visions; moreover, they calculated to quickly drive the
British from Boston, when I would have an oppor-"
tunity of seeing my parents, I waited for four or five
days to see if I could get into Boston, living meanwhile
in their quarters. The army which kept the British
penned up in the city at the time was no better than a
mob, the different companies not being formed as yet,
that I could observe, into regiments or divisions. This
was in the latter part of May, 1775. Concluding
finally that it would be best for me, I enlisted for eight
months** in the company of Captain Bliss, which was
quartered in the house of the Episcopal minister (8),
who, with his family, had deserted It at an early period
of the disturbances and gone into Boston.

There we stayed; to call it living Is out of the ques-
tion, for we had to sleep in our clothes upon the bare
floor. I do not recollect that I even had a blanket, but
I remember well the stone which I had to lay my head
upon. Not more than two or three weeks passed by

* In 1775 H. Pierce, of Boston, was first corporal in Captain
T. T, Bliss's company. See Note 7.

^ E. Howard, of Boston, enlisted May 24, 1775, as a private in
Captain Lemuel Trescott's company. Colonel Jonathan Brewer's
regiment, time, eight months.

^ On a muster roll of Captain Bliss's company, dated August i,
1775> appears John Greenwood's name with rank as fifer; time of
service, two months, six days; residence, Boston. ("Mass. Revol.
Records," Vol. XIV, p. 42.) It also appears on a return of Colonel
Patterson's 26th Regiment of Foot, dated October 6, 1775, on file
in the State House, Boston, and on an order of December 12,
1775, from certain members of Captain Bliss's company to the
Committee on the Pay-table at Watertown, for bounty-money, in
lieu of coats, due the subscribers.

1:9]

when I began to think if I had not some friend or
relation near Cambridge, and happened to recollect a
great-aunt (9) then living in a town twenty miles from
the camp. I procured a furlough or permit from my
captain one morning, to go and see her, and set off
briskly after breakfast, without a penny in my pockets.
With a spirit too proud to beg a mouthful to eat I
traveled onward, and late in the afternoon arrived
within a few miles of the town, which is called Andover.
I was now so hungry that I thought a piece of live
sheep in the neighboring field would be relishable, but
although so near the town, at this point, strange as it
may appear — unaccountable, improbable, or whatever
else you may please to call that which I am about to
relate — I yet assert it as a fact, and am willing to take
my oath, that as I was proceeding onward there was
a certain something that prevented me from going for-
ward; it seemed to push me back, or, as it were, insist
on my returning. I attempted still to advance but
could not, yet on wheeling around to retrace my foot-
steps, I could do so without uneasiness and with pleas-
ure; moreover I traveled very fast.

I proceeded a considerable distance on my way
back, as I walked some time after dark, but became so
fatigued and hungry that I was obliged to stop at a
farm-house to beg something to eat and ask permis-
sion to lie on the kitchen floor that night. They gave
me some mush and milk and a blanket to lie down on,
and I was soon sound asleep, but early the next morn-
ing, before the people were stirring, I had again started
for Cambridge, or the camp.

At dawn of day I heard the firing of great guns,''^
which caused me to quicken my pace, for I supposed the
armies were engaged and, being enlisted, I thought it
was my duty to be there. By ten o'clock I had reached

' The Lively, Captain Thomas Bishop, opened fire upon the
American works at daybreak.

Cambridge common, where I met a man whom I knew,
by the name of Michael Grout, who informed me that
my mother, who had come over the day before from
Boston, was in his house, where he had left her only
a few minutes before. His house, he told me, was
just behind the meeting-house. When I reached the
house I had been directed to I found my mother, sur-
rounded by weeping women and children. She had no
sooner seen me than she exclaimed, "Johnny, do get
me away from here !" and appeared no more frightened
than if nothing had been the matter. "Go," said she,
"up to Cousin Fuller's'^ and get his (riding) chair im-
mediately." It was near by, so off I set, but found
that Mr. Fuller, who was one of the leading char-
acters in the Provincial Congress, had gone to Water-
town; so I procured a horse and side-saddle, but found
on returning to the house where I had left my mother
that she had gone. ^-^ {j-'

jl forgot to mention that as soon as my father heard
I was among the rebels he went to Governor Gage and
got a permission for my mother (lo) to visit the
American camp, provided with money to hire a man
in my stead. She was also to procure a permit for me
to go into Boston. Accordingly she came over the
day before the attack on Bunker Hill, but was not al-
lowed to return, although she had powerful friends
and relations among the rebels, as the British called
us. After the arrival, however, of General Washing-
ton, when she had been absent from Boston then about
six (sic) weeks, she applied to him in person. He con-

^ Judge Abraham Fuller was a member of the Third Provincial
Congress from May 31 to July 19. As head of the committee of
that body he took charge at Concord of the military papers and
removed them safely, so that they escaped the hands of the British
troops. He left $1000 toward founding an academy in Newton
(Cambridge Village), where he died, April 20, 1794, aged seventy-
four. His uncle, Isaac Fuller, married Hannah Greenwood, grand-
daughter of Thomas and Hannah (Ward) Greenwood.

sented immediately — and that against the will of a
great many of the officers and others — to her return-
ing to my father. She was the first and only person
who had permission® to go into Boston after the battle
of Bunker Hill. I did not see my mother again until
she left the camp, and meanwhile she had believed me
dead, as some person informed her, a few days after
the battle, that I had been killed in the engagement^.

As I was observing, previous to this digression, not
finding my mother at Mr. Grout's on my return, and
not knowing where she was, I let the horse go, saddle
and all, to find the way home the best way it could, and
down I went toward the battle to find the company I
belonged to, then about two miles off. As I passed
through Cambridge common I saw a number of
wounded who had been brought from the field of con-
flict. Everywhere the greatest terror and confusion
seemed to prevail, and as I ran along the road leading
to Bunker Hill it was filled with chairs and wagons,
bearing the wounded and dead, while groups of men
were employed in assisting others, not badly injured,
to walk. Never having beheld such a sight before, I
felt very much frightened, and would have given the
world if I had not enlisted as a soldier; I could posi-
tively feel my hair stand on end. Just as I came near
the place a negro man, wounded in the back of his neck,
passed me and, his collar being open and he not having
anything on except his shirt and trousers, I saw the
wound quite plainly and the blood running down his
back. I asked him if it hurt him much as he did not
seem to mind it; he said no, that he was only going to

* Washington arrived in camp July 2, 1775. The petition of
Daniel Murray, son of Colonel John Murray, of Rutland, Massa-
chusetts, that his sister and two brothers might pass into Boston
was sent by the commander to the Massachusetts Committee of
Safety and laid before the Provincial Congress, which body was of
the opinion (July 7) that the petition ought not to be granted, and
referred to their resolution passed June 24.

get a plaster put on it, and meant to return. You
cannot conceive what encouragement this immediately
gave me; I began to feel brave and like a soldier from
that moment, and fear never troubled me afterward
during the whole war.

As good luck would have it I found the company I
belonged to stationed ( 1 1 ) on the road in sight of the
battle, with two field-pieces,^"^ it having been joined to
the regiment commanded by Colonel John Patterson
(12) from Stockbridge^^ (afterward the 12th Massa-
chusetts Bay Regiment). Captain Bliss,(i3), who
had given me permission the day before to go a dis-
tance of more than twenty miles, was astonished to see
me, and asked me how I had returned so soon. I
thought I might as well appear brave as not and make
myself to be thought so by others, so I told him that,
having heard cannon firing early in the morning, I
considered it my duty to be with my fellow-soldiers;
that I had run all the way back for that purpose, and
intended to go into the battle to find them — which I
certainly would have done, as big a coward as I was on
setting out to join my companions. The cause of my
fears then was, I presume, being alone, for I cannot
say that I ever felt so afterward. I was much caressed
by my captain and the company, who regarded me as
a brave little fellow.

The British received such a warm reception from
the Americans that they dared not advance one inch
farther from the spot they had possession of. If they

^° When we learn that some privates of the regiment were in the
train and that Captain Bliss was the following year in Colonel
Lamb's regiment of (New York) artillery, it becomes of interest to
know whether these two pieces of cannon remained with his com-
pany while attached to Patterson's regiment. On an adjacent hill
(Cobble) Major Gridley, of the artillery, ordered into action by
General Ward, halted his two pieces of cannon; he was afterward
cashiered.

^^ See Appendix A.

Ci3]

had we were ready at our station to give them another
battle, as we were placed there for that purpose and to
cover a retreat. The next morning we began, in sight
of them, at the distance of half-cannon shot, to build
a fort on Prospect Hill (14), and they likewise began
to build another opposite to it.

One of the British soldiers was asked, after the en-
gagement at Bunker Hill, by a comrade who had been
in Boston during the battle, how it was, and what sort
of fellows the Yankees were. "Faith!" replied the
former, who was an Irishman, "don't bother me, for
I can tell you all about it in a few words — it was
diamond cut diamond — and that's the whole story,
my dear honey."

As my father lived near the ferry my brothers (15)
were at this point and, the river being only half a mile
wide, saw the whole battle. The wounded were
brought over in the boats belonging to the men-of-war,
and they were obliged to bail the blood out of them
like water, while these very boats carried back the
fresh troops who stood ready to reinforce those en-
gaged. My brother told me that the wives, or women,
of the British soldiers were at the ferry encouraging

them, saying: "D the Yankee rebels, my brave

British boys, give it to them!" He observed likewise
that the soldiers looked as pale as death when they
got into the boats, for they could plainly see their
brother redcoats mowed down like grass by the
Yankees, the whole scene being directly before their
eyes. The Americans were all chiefly marksmen, and
loading their guns each with a ball and five buck-shot,
reserved their fire until the English troops had ad-
vanced within pistol range. I was told the enemy fell
like grass when mowed, and while they were filling up
their ranks to advance again the Yankees gave them
the second fire with the same effect, two or three
dropping at the discharge of every gun. The British

Cm]

then began to fall back and retreat, and it was with
some difficulty their officers could rally them to the
charge. The Yankees stood their ground and waited
until they had advanced within a hundred feet, when
they fired again, continuing it for some time, about half
an hour, when the British retreated a second time.
After they had received additional troops they again
pushed forward, but on being welcomed as before,
pretty warmly, they were again obliged to retreat, and
it was with very great difficulty their officers could
persuade them to rally, telling them they must, as
British valor and courage were at stake and would be
doubted. From the Boston side the British officers
were seen to drive their soldiers on to the charge with
swords and bayonets — this is a fact well known to
many living witnesses at this day.

With a reinforcement, for they were all the time
sending troops over from Boston, they came on again,
and the sound of the guns firing appeared like the roll
of a hundred drums. At last^^ the bayonet went to
work, and as the majority of the Americans, using
fowling-pieces, had no weapons of this kind, and as
many even had no more powder, they clubbed their
guns and knocked the enemy down with the butt-ends.
But at last, for the want of bayonets and powder, they
were obliged themselves to retreat and leave the
English in possession of a dear-bought little piece of
ground.

It is falsely reported that the Americans were in-
trenched in a strong fort; it was no such thing. The

^- David Collins, afterward (1804) first governor of Van Die-
men's Land, claimed to have been the first to enter the American
works; he was then but nineteen years old, and died in 1810. In
the American camp, however, it was known that William Richard-
son, a young lieutenant of the 18th, or Royal Irish, was the first
person who mounted the parapets; he was dangerously wounded.
This circumstance is mentioned by General Washington in a letter
of July 27, 1775.

[■5:

case is this : about 800 men were ordered to make a fort
the night before the battle on a rising piece of ground
directly opposite Boston. This was called Breed's
Hill, and there was a very gentle slope down to the
river, so that at the distance of a quarter-mile from the
bank one could easily roll up a loaded barrow. These
800 men were without spades or pickaxes, or at least
a sufficient number of them, for it is well known that
the mob or army could not at that early time be sup-
plied with these articles, and I cannot believe that
there were more than, if as many as, 300 tools to work
with. It was twelve o'clock at night before they com-
menced, and, being persons unaccustomed to such labor,
it is reasonable to suppose that one half of them were
idle and looking on, while a great number were playing
— I judge by what I have seen myself on similar oc-
casions. Well, even admitting they were all at
work hard during the entire night, is it not natural to
think they would be tired by morning? But you find
it was not the case. They fought like hell-hounds
more than six hours, these very men who, they say, were
building this great fort the night before. Now the
fact is this: there was nothing that could with any
propriety be even called a breastwork, much less a
fort. A little earth had been heaved up in a pile; in
some places it was as high as a man's waist, but the
chief part of it would only reach his knee. It was
entirely open on the back, and was not half so good a
defense as a common stone wall. All the cannon in
it consisted of two field-pieces of 3-pound balls, one of
which, in the beginning of the battle, had the carriage
shot away by a 24-pound shot from the Boston side
at Copp's Hill, while the other was of little use on
account of the scarcity of powder.

Toward the middle of the engagement the British,
by firing what are called carcasses, struck several houses
in Charlestown, one of them lodging in the steeple of

1:163

the meeting-house, and the town, which is situated at
the foot of Bunker, or Breed's, Hill, was soon in a light
blaze. The fools 1 it was of no great advantage to
them, as it made a great smoke which the wind blew
directly on both combatants.

After the battle little else was done by either party
except the building of breastworks and forts, as the
enemy were by this time convinced that we would sell
every inch of ground at as dear a rate as we could.

What I have related is as nigh the truth as can be
possibly arrived at.

One day,^^ as I was standing by my tent, who should

i^Tuesday, July ii, 1775, on the records of the Massachusetts
Provincial Congress we find the following item: "Resolved — That
this Congress has no objection to Mrs. Mary Greenwood having
a permit to go into Boston." No papers in connection are on file
among the state archives.

In a letter book of General Washington, preserved in the Library
of Congress, there is the following one written by his secretary:

Sir

I am directed by the General to desire (you)
would permit the Woman who is the Bearer of (this)
to pass over to Charlestown in order to hve Conveyance (to)
Boston first taking proper Precautions that she
receives no Paper from any Person in her way.
Her name is Greenwood & her Case appears by (the)
Petition herewith.

I am Sir

Your very

Hum' Ser^

J. Reed

Head Quarter

July 13th: 1775

To Gen' Puttnam

Some words are lost, as the edges of the book are worn. The
petition was evidently enclosed in the original letter sent to Gen-
eral Putnam, whose post on Prospect Hill was then the main
defense against the enemy. It is not so easy to identify Mrs. Green-
wood's escort, but he may have been Sergeant John Mills, of one

I see but my mother coming toward me in company
with Sergeant (afterward Major) Mills. "Well,
Johnny," said she, "I am going at last to see your
father, thank God! I hope you will behave like a
soldier, and who knows but what you may be a gen-
eral." She bade me good-by, and the sergeant who
had the care of conducting her to the British lines went
with her to a fort on Prospect Hill, or as the enemy,
believing it impregnable, had called it. Mount Pisgah.
It was nothing, however, but a common dirt fort made
of ground and covered with sods of grass, mounting
about eight or ten iron guns, from 9- to i8-pounders,
nevertheless it was strong enough for them. This
fort, moreover, which, as well as I can remember,
might have held a thousand men crowded into it,
was entirely open in the rear. We, however, did not
depend upon forts, for we meant to attack them in
the roads and fields if they did but venture to show
themselves. Our sentries were then so nigh each
other that conversation used to be carried on between
those of either side — this I have myself seen. On the
present occasion both parties were firing random shot
at each other from their large cannon, but so little
were we afraid of the British that Sergeant Mills went
with my mother around the camp in order to show it
to her. She told the American officers, however, that
she had rather be conducted to the British lines as soon
as possible, and asked them what she should say if the
English asked her any questions about them. Their
answer was: "Tell them we are ready for them at any
time they choose to come out to attack us."

My mother was then taken to the lines and walked
alone from the American to the British sentry, where-
upon a portion of the guard came down from Bunker

of the Connecticut regiments, who in June, 1775, was appointed
regimental quartermaster, and in July regimental adjutant, and
two years later was captain of the 2d Connecticut Regiment.

Hill and escorted her into the fort. There the com-
manding officer, Major Small/^ an acquaintance and
friend of my father, treated her with the greatest
politeness (for every person who was acquainted with
him knows he was a real gentleman) and waited upon
her himself to her residence in Boston, whence she was
desired to attend on Governor Gage. At the gov-
ernor's house she found a number of the first officers,
who, after asking her a number of questions, wished
to know what the rebels said. "I asked them what
answer I should give if you put such a question to me,"
she replied, "and they said, 'Tell them we are ready
for them at any time they choose to come out.' " The
British governor was very much obliged to her for her
information generally, and said that he had no further
interrogations to make. For my part I presume he
had not, for the answer to the last question frightened
him so much he did not feel inclined to ask any more.

'* Major (later Major-General) John Small was major com-
mandant of the 84th Foot, or Royal Highland Emigrants, 2d Bat-
talion, raised in June, 1775, with Governor Gage as colonel. He
died in March, 1795, aged seventy years, lieutenant-governor of
Guernsey, ("N. Y. Col. MSS.," Vol. VHI, p. 588.)

C19:

CHAPTER II

Siege and evacuation of Boston; regiment or-
dered TO Canada; part taken prisoners at
THE Cedars; General Arnold signs a cartel

AND gives hostages TO THE ENEMY

THE English were so penned up in Boston that
they could get no fresh provisions^ except what
they stole from the poor unprotected inhabi-
tants near the seashore, and they were in such want as
to be obliged to risk their lives and make daring attacks
even in the vicinity of our troops. On one occasion
(i6) they came over to steal some cows that were
grazing on a neck of land called Lechmere's Point,
about half a mile from the encampment of our regi-
ment. Covered by a sloop or ship-of-war of eighteen
guns, the enemy effected a landing and began to drive
the cows, but were immediately perceived by our peo-
ple, who quickly marched down toward them. A creek
of water (Willis Creek) ran across the road leading
to the point, the bridge over which, as it was now high
tide, was covered with water to the depth of a man's
waist. A party which was screened from us by a stone
wall had been sent to prevent our crossing, but, plung-

1 Freneau, in his "Midnight Musings," 1775, assigns these words
to Governor Gage:

"Three weeks, ye gods ! nay, three long years it seems
Since roast-beef I have seen, except in dreams."

ing in, we were soon over, and as quickly made them
run. Just as we had crossed the bridge our men were
exposed to the fire from the British fort at Bunker Hill,
of 1 8- and 24-pound guns. I recollect that as eight or
ten of us were In a huddle running up the hill, a ball
from a 24-pounder struck about three feet before me,
driving the dirt smack In our faces. We ran on and
just got down so as to get a shot at them before they
pushed off. They did not take anything with them,
however, and only stabbed two or three cows with
their bayonets. The night following we knocked up a
small fort, placed four heavy guns upon It, and quickly
made the ship-of-war quit her station.

Night was the time for frolicking, as the British were
constantly sending bombs at us, and sometimes from
two to six at a time could be seen In the air overhead,
looking like moving stars In the heavens. These shells
were mostly thirteen Inches In diameter, and It was
astonishing how high they could send such heavy
things. I have often seen them strike the ground when
It was frozen and bound up like a foot-ball, and again,
falling on marshy land, they would bury themselves
from ten to twelve feet In It, whereupon, the wet ground
having extinguished the fusee, the Yankees would dig
them up to get the powder out. On one occasion a 13-
inch bomb dropped directly opposite the door of the
picket guard-house where 200 men were on duty, and
a lad about eighteen years old, named Shubael Rament
(17), belonging to our company, ran out, knocked the
fusee from the shell, and took the powder out of It, of
which I had some myself to kill snipe with. Some of
our sentries were placed in very dangerous situations,
much exposed to the fire of the enemy, who, having
plenty of powder to waste, were almost constantly at
It. We, however, became so accustomed to this that
nothing was thought of it, and for half a pint of ani-
seed water one soldier who was a little timid could get

another to stand for him as sentry in the most perilous
place ( i8).

During the entire winter we were amused in this way,
nothing material happening. One night (March 2,
1776) while our troops were firing into Boston over
Roxbury Neck, a ball from a 9-pounder struck into the
British guard-house and carried off the legs of ten men^
as they were sitting on a bench together. Frequently
we mustered and marched up to Cambridge Creek,
Avith the idea that we were about to attack and storm
the British in Boston. In the creek were a number of flat-
bottomed boats, constructed to carry about forty men,
and we used to put two of them together with a plat-
form between, get on board, and see how we could
manage them. Here we had likewise large floating bat-
teries,'' carrying heavy guns and roofed over like a
house. With these we were to attack Boston — aye,
and should have done it if ordered, for danger we knew
none — and would certainly have taken the place with
such men as we had. This plan, however, was given up
for another, viz., to build a fort on Dorchester Heights
very near the city so as to command the harbor. At
the latter work we went (March 4) with about 3000
or 4000 men, and having all the fascines ready made,
the British were in the morning surprised at beholding
a fort which would have so great a command over
them.

The British admiral (Shuldham) told the general
(Howe) that the place must be attacked immediately
or he could not remain with his ships in the harbor.
Accordingly 5000 or 6000 men were sent off in boats
to take the fort, but such a storm arose that they were

- Frothingham's "Siege of Boston," p. 297, says six men were
wounded.

^ For an account and drawing of these batteries see Lossing's
"Field Book of the Revolution," Vol. I, p. 575; Heath's "Memoirs,"
p. 29.

obliged to give up the design. Had they succeeded in
landing they would certainly have been overpowered,
for it was a steep hill and the Americans had a
number of hogsheads and barrels filled with sand to roll
down^ upon them, and intended to sally out of the fort
upon them when in confusion, and they would have
liked no better fun.

I forgot to mention a piece of diversion, planned by
old Putnam, which happened about two months before
Dorchester Heights were taken possession of. One
afternoon (January 8) about sundown a party of near
fifty men from our regiment (under Captain William
Wyman and Lieutenant William Augustus Patterson)
were ordered to march on an expedition, and, having
the curiosity to know where they were going and being
then fife-major, I concluded to play for them myself;
accordingly I went, accompanied by the drum-major.^
We were marched Into a field a short distance from
the camp and there joined by other parties to the num-
ber of 200 men (19), of whom some thirty or forty
were provided with large bundles of chips dipped in
brimstone and turpentine. Between nine and ten o'clock
Putnam ordered us to march without the least noise or
any music, leading us down to an old causeway belong-
ing to Charlestown mills, which ran directly under
Bunker Hill and within pistol-shot of the fort. When
Charlestown was burned about ten or twelve houses
were left unconsumed, and these were now inhabited
by a parcel of stragglers, such as sutlers, mechanics,
and camp women. Our men crossed the causeway (or
mill-dam from Cobble Hill), surprised the different
sentries, took a number of prisoners, and set fire to
these houses right under their very noses, the enemy at
the fort being so astonished as not to fire for some

* Suggested by Brigadier-General Thomas Mifflin, though Heath
says "a Mr. William Davis of Boston."
^ Jonathan Kinney.

1^3 1

time, at least not until the houses were in a light blaze.
I never heard that we lost a single man.

The reason for this frolic being undertaken was that,
as General Washington had many spies in Boston and
could ascertain everything the British were about, he had
learned that on the very evening in question they were
about to enact a new play in derision of the Yankees,
called the "Blockade of Boston," wherein was depicted
the supposed ignorance and cowardice of our soldiers,
— for you know they are good hands at running down
all nations save themselves. Just as the play was at
its height and as one of the actors was representing a
Yankee sentinel, rigged out like a tailor with his paper
measures hanging over his shoulders and his large
shears sticking out of his pocket, etc., resting or leaning
upon his gun and conversing with a countryman who
had a newspaper, — just at that very time it so happened
that Putnam had the houses at Charlestown set on fire.
This produced such an alarm in Boston that a sergeant
rushed upon the stage and cried out as loud as he could :
"To arms! to arms! gentlemen, the rebels are upon
us!" The audience thought he was acting part of the
play and clapped him stoutly because he did so well,
and It was some time before he could make them under-
stand it was no sham. When they did, however, they
tumbled down-stairs, over one another as fast as they
could, and broke up the Yankee play. My father and
mother were in the house (Faneull Hall) at the time
and witnessed the scene.

When the British perceived that It would be impos-
sible to drive us from Dorchester Heights without
another Bunker Hill frolic, or one much worse, they
concluded to quit the town, not burning It if we let them
go quietly; so we permitted them to depart, with their
braggadocios, in peace. The first thing they did was to
march from Bunker Hill in the night, leaving the can-

non in the fort, and two effigies/' stuffed with straw, to
stand sentry with guns upon their shoulders, etc. They
passed over to Boston and, in a short time, embarked
on their ships and were off for Halifax; so I will leave
them until necessary to make mention of them again.

As my first term of enlistment expired during the
continuance of the siege (Christmas, 1775), I had en-
listed again for one year more. Two or three days
after the British quitted Bunker Hill, but before they
had finally left Boston (viz., on March 18, 1776), our
regiment had orders to march for New York, and as
we set off at great speed I had not the satisfaction of
seeing my parents, from whom I had been absent al-
most three years. We traveled to New London and,
embarking thence, arrived in New York, where, after
a stay of about three weeks, ^ we were ordered (April
21) to Canada, and proceeded up the river on sloops
to Albany (20).

Our regiment consisted at the time of 500 strong
and tolerably well-disciplined soldiers, badly equipped
as to guns, however, as the majority had fowling-pieces
of different sizes and bores and few of them had bayo-
nets. Moreover, the men were unfurnished with
swords to fight with in close quarters, although a few
of them had tomahawks. We soon arrived at Ticon-
deroga, whence we sailed (May 4) in boats through
Lake Champlain to St. Johns, marched to La Prairie,
and finally crossed over to Montreal (on the 15th),
where we were quartered in large stone barracks ad-
joining the North Gate. The city, being walled in,
is supplied with gates for egress, over which are guard-
houses. The greater part of our army (21) was now

^ One of these figures, according to President Stiles's (Yale Col-
lege) Diary, March 17, bore on its breast a placard inscribed:
"Welcome, Brother Jonathan!"

^ During which time Greenwood had a set of fifes made for the
regiment by Mr. A. Turk.

[251

down the St. Lawrence toward Quebec at a place called
Three Rivers. We had been in Montreal but a few days
when numbers of our men were attacked with the
smallpox and carried to the hospital.

At this time there was a regiment stationed farther
up the river, at the Cedars, about thirty-five miles
southwest from Montreal, under the command of
Colonel Bedel (22). It was now surrounded by 1300
Indians and sixty-odd British troops, having with them
two brass field-pieces and a company of Canadian sol-
diers. The American regiment consisted, as I was
told, of 600 or 700 altogether. Colonel Bedel had
intrenched himself in a small fort, and was so com-
pletely hemmed in by the enemy that he could get no
supplies whatever. He sent an express down to Gen-
eral Arnold, who was the commanding officer at Mon-
treal, for a reinforcement and provisions, but was
obliged to surrender to the mercy of the Indians before
he could be assisted. Arnold, not knowing he had
given up his troops, sent^ to his aid 200 men from our
regiment, with three wagons loaded with provisions.
My captain. Bliss, and the lieutenant, Edward Com-
stock,'' who is now (1809) living in Albany, were of
the party, and I, as fife-major and able to send what
fifer I pleased, detailed two fifers who, with two drum-
mers, accompanied them. Off they all marched, little
thinking what a time they would have of it.

The party was commanded by our major, Henry
Sherburne (23), now (1809) State Treasurer of
Rhode Island; a braver man never was made, and he
was a strict disciplinarian. When they arrived at Fort
Ann, about thirty miles up the St. Lawrence River,
they crossed over and began their march toward the
Cedars, which was some three or four miles from the

^ May 16, 1776; Bedel surrendered on the 19th.
^Edward Cumston was second lieutenant; for John Cumston,
first lieutenant, see Note 18.

opposite shore. The Indians, who had timely notice
of their coming, lined the woods and bushes alongside
the road, close to a small bridge and about two miles
from where they landed, and likewise sent a party to
destroy their boats and take the men prisoners who
had been left in charge of them. As soon as the Ameri-
cans came opposite to the place where the Indians were
concealed (May 20), the latter rose up and poured
upon them a tremendous fire, making at the same time
a most hideous noise called the war-whoop, which
sounds thus: "Woo-woo-woo-whoop !" (The last
syllable is raised to a monstrous scream or yell, and
this is kept up so incessantly that it is impossible
to hear the word of command from your officers.)
Our men fought the 1300 devils for upward of
two hours and killed a number of them, including
several chiefs, and losing themselves sixty-odd men
besides having many more wounded. The Indians
are not such good marksmen in an engagement
as they are in hunting, neither are they so brave
as generally represented, for they cannot face an
enemy; their mode of fighting is very irregular,
and they like something to get behind or skulk under.
Major Sherburne, however, was obliged at last to
give up, and no sooner were his men prisoners than the
Indians, exasperated from the loss of some of their
best chiefs and warriors, fell to work stripping and
leaving stark naked those who had clothes on fit for
anything, despatching the wounded by knocking them
on the head with their axes and tomahawks, and scalp-
ing the dead, that is, tearing the skin and hair from
the top of their heads. Previous to being slain the
wounded had to suffer the torments inflicted by the
children of the savages. The dead were also divested
of their clothing and laid by the road-side, where
our remaining troops were driven past them like
cattle to witness the spectacle, the Indians bran-

dishing their knives and tomahawks over their heads,
and howling and screaming like madmen or devils.
Thus they were taken to the Cedars, where the other
prisoners were confined in an old stone church. The
Indians, being so many in number and no providers
for the future, were themselves in a state of starva-
tion, and Colonel Bedel's regiment having no sup-
plies when taken by them, you may imagine how
the poor prisoners suffered; I believe if it had not
been for the interference of the British troops, the
Indians would have burned and murdered every one of
them. They had already killed and destroyed every
living creature around except the Roman Catholic
priest's cow, and at last they knocked her in the head
and, without skinning her, cutting the flesh off with
their scalping knives while still alive, ate her, guts and
all.

The Indians were so elated with their success that in
a day or two they began their march toward Montreal
to attack us. At the time two thirds of our troops
were down with the smallpox, then raging at its height,
and we could spare not more than 500, bateaux men
and all, to go and meet them, leaving a small number
to guard the city. I must observe that it Is a custom
of the Indians always to carry their prisoners with
them, placing them at night on a point of land near the
river and putting a guard across. The prisoners,
obliged to lie upon the damp ground In the open air
without the least covering except the heavens, often
well soaked with rain and with little or nothing to eat,
are generally much debilitated and weakened and sub-
ject to attacks of flux and fever. As soon as one poor
fellow is not able, the next morning, to travel with
them, the Indians knock him in the head, more for the
sake of getting his scalp than of getting rid of him, for
the scalp Is their trophy of war, and he who has in his
possession the greatest number is accounted the brav-

est warrior. As they have no general among them,
every one does pretty much as he pleases, so they
brought their prisoners with them to within three or
four miles of where we were In Montreal.

(Saturday, May 25) Arnold paraded about 500
men to go and give them battle. I was with the ad-
vance-guard and we had not proceeded more than two
miles beyond the city before three Indians were seen
In the road coming toward us, who, as soon as they
perceived us, gave the war-whoop, hove down their
guns and blankets, and, flying to the woods, disap-
peared In a moment. Our guide was a British soldier
who had deserted from the Rangers, and Arnold now
sent orders for him to cross the woods for the purpose
of reconnoltering the enemy, while I, who happened to
be near him and who was thought to be a brave little
fellow of some Intelligence, was appointed to accom-
pany him. He had no other arms than a tomahawk,
while I had a small japanned fusee and a sword, so I
did not hesitate to go with him alone, although I did
not much like his face. We cut across the woods; my
gun was loaded, my sword was sharp, and I managed
to be always on guard by keeping at a little distance
from my companion, for I never liked a deserter or a
traitor — neither can be trusted. Just at evening we ar-
rived at a place called La Chine, ^"^ about eight miles
from Montreal. Here Jack, the guide, left me by the
side of a fence, telling me to remain there until he re-
turned, as he was going to a small house that stood near
by where he was well acquainted with the people, but
where he was afraid my regimental clothing, a blue
coat turned up with buff and trimmed with silver lace,
would create suspicion. He went down and, having
soon returned, desired me to follow him as It was then
somewhat dark. I entered the house and found the

^° "Glasheen" in the original manuscript. Southwest from
Montreal.

n29:

inmates to consist of a Canadian man about fifty years
old, his wife of thirty, whom he had purchased from
the Indians as I learned, and an old Canadian woman
perhaps seventy-five years of age.

We had not been in the place more than ten or fifteen
minutes before the war-whoop of the Indians was
heard; we had got ahead of them, and they were now
flying before General Arnold. The building was a one-
story stone structure with two rooms on the ground
floor. In one of these was a bed under which this
fellow Jack and myself quickly ensconced ourselves. In
a minute or two the house and the entire road were
filled with Indians, making a most hideous noise and
retreating as fast as they could toward Fort Ann, some
twelve miles off. In about an hour they had all passed
by without discovering us; had they found us we would
have been burned alive. Jack now borrowed from the
Canadian his spare clothes and, putting them on, left
his own behind, saying, "We will follow them and see
what they are about." So after them we went, not by
the road but across the fields, and at length came to
the settlement where the enemy had stopped, called
Fort Ann, near which place we passed into the road.
The fences in that part of the country were sometimes
made of logs set upright and as close as they can stand
to one another. By the side of such a fence I was now
told to wait while my companion, being disguised, went
into the town to observe their movements. I was to
remain until he returned, and had he been taken pris-
oner, or had any mishap befallen him to prevent his
coming back, I should have been obliged to stay there
until daylight and be taken prisoner myself, for I never
could have found my own way back to our detachment.
I began to think what a situation I was in, standing in a
nook between two posts of the fence, within hearing of
the savage Indians. Every minute appeared an hour;
sometimes I heard them walking by me in the road,

Do]

then again I would fancy they were looking after me;
in short I had but a very unpleasant time of it.

A signal had been agreed upon between the guide
and myself: he was to come along the fence with one
hand touching it until he touched me; then I might be
sure it was he. In about an hour he returned and
touched me; it made my heart beat again. "Come
along," he said, "the Indians are crossing the river, and
will be all over before our troops can come up with
them. We must go and inform the general." In haste
we took our route back over the fields. It was quite
dark and I, being slipshod, had the misfortune in get-
ting over a high picket fence to drop one of my shoes,
and, jumping down on a sharp stone, cut a large gash
in my right heel. This hurt me considerably before the
end of the two remaining miles to La Chine, where our
troops then were. However, we reached this point
near daylight and informed the general as to the situa-
tion of the enemy.

The troops were soon mustered for pursuit, but as
I could not walk without much pain, I was obliged now
to get into one of the boats. The river being very
rapid, it was late before these bateaux, or boats, got up
to Fort Ann, and the sun was about two hours high.
The troops were in readiness to embark and follow the
enemy, so on board they came, and I had the command
of a blunderbuss at the bow of our boat. General Ar-
nold was in a birch canoe paddled by two Indians who
belonged to a party of 200 that had joined us after our
arrival at La Chine, opposite to which place they have
a town called Caughnawaga. (They are a cowardly set
of fellows except they have the advantage of you.)

About a half-hour before sunset we neared the oppo-
site shore, at which point the river is very wide, some-
thing like a bay. As we passed a small island, our boat
being near it, a naked man up to his middle in the water
was seen coming off to us. We rowed toward him and

1130

took him in, when he proved to be one of our men who
had escaped from the Indians, anxious for his revenge
against them, eager to conduct us where they were, and
apparently no more concerned about his appearance
than if he were dressed like a prince. We pushed on
until within musket-shot of the shore (at Quinze
Chiens). The landing-place was covered with woods,
and behind every tree were three or four Indians who
poured or showered their bullets upon us as thick as
hailstones. As it was now sundown, General Arnold
thought proper to give the signal of retreat to the
other side of the river, so back we went.

The English had drawn down their two field-pieces^^
to the shore and now began to play amongst us with
them, which made our Indians fly with their birch
canoes like so many devils; they do not like to see large
balls skipping over the water, in and out until their
force is lost, for a single one would knock their paper
boats to pieces in a moment.

On landing, as we were in sight of the enemy, a great
number of fires were ordered to be kindled to make
them suppose we were many in numbers, so about mid-
night a flag of truce came over to capitulate with us,
as they knew we intended to attack them the next morn-
ing. They agreed to give up all their prisoners on con-
dition that they should not be employed against them
for, I think, the next seven months, and hostages were
given by the Americans; that is, some of the officers
were left in their possession, my captain (Bliss) among
the rest.

The next day they sent over the prisoners, — poor
fellows, they looked as if they had been dragged by
the heels for a hundred miles over the ground, — some-
thing similar, I suppose, to those who were exchanged
from the Jersey prison-ship by the English at New
York. The Indians and the English acted very much

" See Note 22.

1:323

alike, that is, without principle, only trying how badly
they could treat those in their possession, little think-
ing it would be our turn next to tickle them.

n33]

CHAPTER III

Retreat from Canada to Ticonderoga; regiment
JOINS General Washington in New Jersey;

BATTLE OF TrENTON ; GREENWOOD LEAVES THE
ARMY

THE enemy was now advancing from Quebec
along either side of the river. As the majority
of our men were sick with the smallpox, we
made the best of our way back to Montreal for the
purpose of retiring from it, and had been in the city
but a few days when late one afternoon the order (24)
came: "Retreat! retreat! the British are upon us!"
Down we scampered to the boats, those of the sick who
were not led from the hospital crawling after us. Camp
equipage, kettles, and everything were abandoned in
the utmost confusion — even the bread that was baking
in the ovens — for we were glad to get away with whole
skins. When half-way across the river it began to
grow very dark, and down came the rain in drops the
size of large peas, wetting our smallpox fellows, hud-
dled together like cord-wood in the boats, and causing
the death of many.

It was a very cold rain, and as the boat struck the
shore I, being but a boy and wet through and through,
tried to take care of myself, at which I had a tolerable
good knack, and so left the rest, dead and alive, to do
the same. An old barn being near, I went in and soon

C343

found that others had discovered the retreat as well as
myself, and were lying on the floor close together like
hogs, so I contentedly pigged it down with the rest, not
knowing who they were nor caring if they had been
devils so long as I could have got a warm berth among
them. I had not been in the barn longer than to get
warm, so as to smoke a little, when the officers came

poking along, shouting: "Turn out, turn out, d

you, and march to join the army at Longueuil ! Turn
out or we will fire upon you!" Thinks I to myself,
"Fire away!" However, we had to answer as they
could not see us, and so said we were ready to march.
Out we came into the rain and had to march three miles,
half a leg deep in mud, to Longueuil, where General
Arnold was mustering his scattered once-were-men.
Looking around after reaching this place, I observed
near by a windmill, into which I got unnoticed and,
mounting to where the stones were, lay down and was
only waked up at daybreak by the noise of the drums
beating "to arms." Down I came out of the mill and
at last found the remains of our regiment, the officers
never questioning as to where I had been, for they al-
ways had a good opinion of my bravery.

General Arnold gathered together the priests and
the friars and told them that if they did not imme-
diately procure all the carts and wagons around the
town, to carry the sick and what stores, etc., we had,
he would set the place on fire. These conveyances
were quickly brought and we marched on toward La
Prairie. My party being in the rear we found, on
reaching a bridge that lies between Longueuil and La
Prairie, that it had been fired by the party which had
marched before us, and consequently we had to march
over it while in flames. The road ran alongside of the
river opposite the city of Montreal, and we could
plainly see the red-coated British soldiers on the
other shore; so close were they upon us that, if we

1:35:1

had not retreated as we did, all would have been pris-
oners, for they were in numbers as six to our one, and
we, moreover, nearly half dead with sickness and fa-
tigue and lack of clothing, etc., etc.

On the previous day our boats had landed at differ-
ent places along shore on account of the strong current
running in the river, and after the sick and lame had
been taken out and left to shift for themselves in the
rain during the night, these boats, according to orders,
had been stove to pieces to prevent the enemy from
securing them. As we now marched along, the sad
sight of many a companion who had died from ex-
posure met our gaze. The shore, moreover, was
strewed with different things, such as Arnold's plunder
from the city, for the fellow had consumed the fore
part of the day on which we retreated in carrying over
the river plunder of different kinds, such as wine, butter,
raisins, etc., etc. We were obliged, however, to leave
the best part of this and retreat to St. Johns, at the
head of Lake Champlain, where we stopped for a few
days to collect all our scattered soldiers together, pre-
vious to crossing the lake, which is i8o miles long as
I was informed.

After a while we embarked in open boats and pro-
ceeded toward Ticonderoga. On the route the rations,
served out to us each day, consisted of a pint of flour
and a quarter-pound of pork for every man, and to
cook this we were allowed to land at noon. We were
without camp-kettles or any utensils whatever to make
bread in, and pretty kind of stuff was the preparation
dignified by the latter term — mixed up with water from
the lake, by fellows as lousy, itchy, and nasty as hogs,
I have seen it, when made and baked upon a piece of
bark, so black with dirt and smoke I do not think a dog
could eat it. But with us it went down, lice, itch, and
all, without any grumbling, while the pork was broiled
on a wooden fork and the drippings caught by the beau-

tiful flour cakes. Such was the life of our Continental
soldiers who went to Canada, and the sick among them
fared not otherwise. As for myself, being a fife-major
and a favorite with both officers and men, I fared a
little better; moreover, though I was but a boy, I yet
knew how to take care of myself. To cheer the men up
I would often play them a tune, and having a constitu-
tion like a horse, kept always lively and encouraging
the sick, doing what was in my power for them as I had
little else to do, never being called upon to row the
boat or to do the least of fatigue duty. I slept, too, all
night and was in heaven compared to any of them,
though the best fare was bad enough for me.

At last we arrived at Ticonderoga and four New
England regiments, of which number ours was one,
were ordered to make an encampment on Mt. Inde-
pendence, a high mountain opposite Ticonderoga.^
This place was covered with thick woods and, being
also very rocky, was filled with snakes of every descrip-
tion, though mostly black and rattlesnakes. Had it
been filled with devils, however, it would have made no
difference to our soldiers, for they were proof against
everything. After we had been there two or three
months down came the British on the lake with a ship
of twenty guns, brass 6-pounders, and ninety gunboats
filled with men, to attack our little fleet of thirteen sail,
consisting of a sloop, a schooner, three or four floating
batteries, and other small craft. Arnold commanded
the Mosquito Fleet, as it was called, and gave the enemy
battle (October ii, etc., 1776), but was overpowered
with numbers and obliged to retreat.

While stationed on Mt. Independence plenty of cat-
tle were driven to the camp, and, being fed constantly
on fresh meat without a particle of salt to give it a
relish, our soldiers at length got the flux (or camp dis-

^ Connected by a floating bridge eighty rods long and twelve
feet wide.

C373

temper) and died like rotten sheep, so that out of the
500 men we had in our regiment upon entering Canada,
but 100 were left when orders came, toward the close
of November,^ for marching to Albany. I had the
fever and ague, being sick for the first time, and what
I suffered on the march cannot be described. With no
tents to shelter us from the snow and rain, we were
obliged to get through it as well as we could, and as to
eating or cooking, you may put them out of the ques-
tion; they who were with us know best about these
things, others cannot believe the tenth part, so I will
say nothing further on the subject. A great many
things I have not related which are positive facts, as
no one would be apt to give them credence unless he
had beheld similar scenes.

When we arrived at Albany (25) we were ordered
on board vessels for Esopus (or Kingston), and
thence proceeded, still without tents and some of our
men without even shoes, over the mountains to a place
called Newton, in Pennsylvania, passing on the way
through Nazareth and Bethlehem.-^ A day or two
after reaching Newton we were paraded one afternoon
to march and attack Trenton. If I recollect aright the
sun was about half an hour high and shining brightly,
but it had no sooner set than it began to drizzle or grow
wet, and when we came to the river it rained. Every
man had sixty rounds of cartridges served out to him,
and as I then had a gun, as indeed every officer had, I
put the number which I received, some in my pockets
and some in my little cartridge-box. Over the river we
then went in a flat-bottomed scow, and as I was with

2 November 18, 1776.

^ To this place, by order of General Washington under date of
December 3, 1776, the general hospital was removed from Mor-
ristown, and the sick and wounded found quarters in the seminary
and the Sun Inn, Dr. John Warren being surgeon-general of the
Continental Army.

the first that crossed, we had to wait for the rest and
so began to pull down the fences and make fires to
warm ourselves, for the storm was increasing rapidly.
After a while it rained, hailed, snowed, and froze, and
at the same time blew a perfect hurricane; so much so
that I perfectly recollect, after putting the rails on to
burn, the wind and the fire would cut them in two in
a moment, and when I turned my face toward the fire
my back would be freezing. However, as my usual
acuteness had not forsaken me, by turning round and
round I kept myself from perishing before the large
bonfire. The noise of the soldiers coming over and
clearing away the ice, the rattling of the cannon wheels
on the frozen ground, and the cheerfulness of my fel-
low-comrades encouraged me beyond expression, and,
big coward as I acknowledge myself to be, I felt great
pleasure, more than I now do in writing about it. After
our men had all crossed — and there were not, as I could
see, more than 200 of us — we began an apparently cir-
cuitous march, not advancing faster than a child ten
years old could walk, and stopping frequently, though
for what purpose I know not. During the whole night
it alternately hailed, rained, snowed, and blew tremen-
dously. I recollect very well that at one time, when we
halted on the road, I sat down on the stump of a tree
and was so benumbed with cold that I wanted to go to
sleep ; had I been passed unnoticed I should have frozen
to death without knowing it; but as good luck always at-
tended me. Sergeant Madden came and, rousing me up,
made me walk about. We then began to march again,
just in the old slow way, until the dawn of day, about
half-past seven in the morning.

I have heard that we surprised the enemy; if we did,
they must have been a lazy, indolent set of rascals,
which is nothing to the credit of a regular army, as the
English called themselves. But any who would even
suppose such a thing must indeed be ignorant, when it

[39]

is well known that our whole country was filled with
timid, designing tories and informers of all descrip-
tions, and our march so slow that it was impossible but
that they should be apprised of it.^ It was likewise
asserted at the same time that the enemy were all drunk ;
if they were, it shows there was no good discipline
among those brave, regular troops. If they were
drunk, I can swear we were all sober to a man; not only
sober, but nearly half dead with cold for the want of
clothing, as, putting the storm to one side, many of our
soldiers had not a shoe to their feet and their clothes
were ragged as those of a beggar. I am certain not a
drop of liquor was drunk during the whole night, nor,
as I could see, even a piece of bread eaten, and I am
willing to go upon oath that I did not see even a solitary
drunken soldier belonging to the enemy, — and you will
find, as I shall show, that I had an opportunity to be as
good a judge as any person there.

None but the first ofl'icers knew where we were going
or what we were going about, for it was a secret expe-
dition, and we, the bulk of the men coming from
Canada, knew not the disposition of the army we were
then in, nor anything about the country. This was not
unusual, however, as I never heard soldiers say any-
thing, nor ever saw them trouble themselves, as to
where they were or where they were led. It was enough
for them to know that wherever the oflicers commanded
they must go, be it through fire and water, for it was
all the same owing to the impossibility of being in a
worse condition than their present one, and therefore
the men always liked to be kept moving in expectation
of bettering themselves.

Between seven and eight o'clock, as we were march-
ing near the town, the first intimation I received of our

* The Hessian commander, Colonel Rahl, was informed through
a tory living on the Pennington road, but the letter is said to have
been found, unopened, in his pocket.

going to fight was the firing of a 6-pound cannon at us,
the ball from which struck the fore horse that was
dragging our only piece of artillery, a 3-pounder. The
animal, which was near me as I was in the second divi-
sion on the left, was struck in its belly and knocked over
on its back. While it lay there kicking the cannon was
stopped and I did not see it again after we had passed
on. As we advanced, it being dark and stormy so that
we could not see very far ahead, we got within 200
yards of about 300 or 400 Hessians who were paraded,
two deep, in a straight line with Colonel Roll (Rail or
Rahl), their commander, on horseback, to the right of
them. They made a full fire at us, but I did not see
that they killed any one. Our brave Major Sherburne
ordered us to fall back about 300 yards and pull off
our packs, which we accordingly did and piled them by
the roadside. "Now, my boys," says he, "pass the
word through the ranks that he who is afraid to follow
me, let him stay behind and take care of the packs!"
Not a man offered to leave the ranks, and as we never
went back that way, we all lost our packs: at least I
never heard anything of mine, and I had in it a beau-
tiful suit of blue clothes, turned up with white and
silver laced. As we had been in the storm all night we
were not only wet through and through ourselves, but
our guns and powder were wet also, so that I do not
believe one would go off, and I saw none fired by our
party. When we were all ready we advanced, and,
although there was not more than one bayonet to five
men, orders were given to "Charge bayonets and rush
on !" and rush on we did. Within pistol-shot they again
fired point-blank at us; we dodged and they did not hit
a man, while before they had time to reload we were
within three feet of them, when they broke in an instant
and ran like so many frightened devils into the town,
which was at a short distance, we after them pell-mell.
Some of the Hessians took refuge in a church at the

[413

door of which we stationed a guard to keep them in,
and taking no further care of them for the present,
advanced to find more, for many had run down into the
cellars of the houses. I passed two of their cannon
(26), brass 6-pounders, by the side of which lay seven
dead Hessians and a brass drum. This latter article
was, I remember, a great curiosity to me and I stopped
to look at it, but it was quickly taken possession of by
one of our drummers, who threw away his own instru-
ment. At the same time I obtained a sword from one
of the bodies, and we then ran on to join the regiment,
which was marching down the main street toward the
market. Just before we reached this building, how-
ever. General Washington, on horseback and alone,
came up to our major and said, "March on, my brave
fellows, after me !" and rode off.

After passing a number of dead and wounded Hes-
sians we reached the other side of the town and on our
right beheld about 500 or 600 of the enemy paraded,
two deep, in a field. At the time we were marching in
grand divisions which filled up the street, but as we got
opposite the enemy we halted and, filing off two deep,
marched right by them, — yes, and as regular as a Prus-
sian troop. When we had reached the end of their
line we were ordered to wheel to the right, which
brought us face to face six feet apart, at which time,
though not before, I discovered they had no guns.
They had been taken prisoners by another party and
we had marched between them and their guns, which
they had laid down. A few minutes afterward a num-
ber of wagons came behind us, into which the guns were
placed, and the next thing ordered was to disarm the
prisoners of their swords, with one of which every man
was provided; these we also put in the wagons, but com-
pelled the enemy to carry their cartridge-boxes them-
selves. Our regiment was then ordered to conduct
them down to the ferry and transport them over to the

1:423

other side, so we began the march, guarding the flanks
or sides of the road.

The Hessian prisoners, who were all grenadiers,
numbered about 900. I saw also a party of 300 or 400
who had got off,"^ but how they did it I could not con-
ceive. The scow, or flat-bottomed boat which was used
in transporting them over the ferry, was half a leg
deep with rain and snow, and some of the poor fellows
were so cold that their under] aws quivered like an
aspen leaf. On the march down to the boats, seeing
some of our men were much pleased with the brass caps
which they had taken from the dead Hessians, our
prisoners, who were besides exceedingly frightened,*^
pulled off those that they were wearing, and, giving
them away, put on the hats which they carried tied be-
hind their packs. With these brass caps on it was
laughable to see how our soldiers would strut, — fel-
lows with their elbows out and some without a collar
to their half-a-shirt, no shoes, etc.

The next day (December 27, 1776), being two days
after our time was out, we received three months' pay,
— and glad was I. We were offered twenty-six dollars'^
to stay six weeks longer, but as I did not enlist for the
purpose of remaining in the army, but only through
necessity, as I could not get to my parents in Boston, I
was determined to quit as soon as my time was out.^

^ Some of the infantry and light horse fled on the first alarm to
Bordentown.

^ They had been told that the Americans were a "race of canni-
bals who would not only tomahawk a poor Hessian and haul off
his hide for a drum's head, but would just as leave barbecue and
eat him as they would a pig."

^ This probably refers to Greenwood himself and the ensigncy he
would have received.

^ Dr. Benjamin Rush writes, December 21, 1776, to R. H. Lee,
Esq., a fellow member of Congress, "that the four eastern states
will find great difficulty in raising their quota of men, owing to
that excessive rage for privateering which now prevails among
them, etc." ("American Archives," Series 5, Vol. Ill, p. 1512.)

[143]

As our captain had been taken prisoner at the Cedars,
I told my Heutenant (Edward Cumston) that I was
going home. "My God!" says he, "you are not, I
hope, going to leave us, for you are the life and soul
of us and are to be promoted to an ensign." I told him
I would not stay to be a colonel. I had the itch then
so bad that my breeches stuck to my thighs, all the skin
being off, and there were hundreds of vermin upon me,
owing to a whole month's march and having been
obliged, for the sake of keeping warm, to lie down at
night among the soldiers who were huddled close to-
gether like hogs.

Leonard Parks, ^ a young fifer-boy, and myself set
off to cross the river for Newton. We were both sick,
and I from weakness could hardly put one foot before
the other, yet we trudged along together, with one
blanket, expecting to reach Boston, the route we had to
take being about 350 miles. I had thirty-three paper
dollars and he had twenty-four, as my wages, being fife-
major, were eleven dollars and his eight. After we
had crossed the ferry and traveled about half a mile,
two mounted officers were seen coming toward us who
stopped to speak, when who should one of them prove
to be but my own Captain Bliss, who had been taken in
Canada by the Indians. "My God!" says I, "how
came you here?" He said he had been released at
Quebec, came on by water to Philadelphia, and was now
going home. He was a very pleasant, good-natured

^ L. Parks, of Lincoln, was fifer in 1775 to Captain Nathan
Fuller's company, Lieutenant-Colonel William Band's (late Colo-
nel Gardner's) 37th Regiment of Foot. He reenlisted in one of the
Massachusetts regiments in 1776 and was on service at times,
1777-8, as fifer in the militia company of Captain Samuel Farrar,
of Lincoln, Colonel Eleazor Brook's regiment. Parks was living
at Cambridge, Massachusetts (half a mile from the bridge) in
November, 1816, at which time his son, twenty-three years of age,
had just returned from the East Indies after an absence of five
years. (Family letters, etc.)

C443

man, had always treated me like a father, and was now
very glad to see me. I told him I was very sick, was
returning home if I could only reach there, and begged
him to give me his horse, informing him that, as it was
nearly good for nothing, he could get a fine one in
Trenton, where there were plenty running about the
streets. He said he had no money, and if I would give
him eleven dollars for the horse I might have him. To
this I agreed, and the captain, taking off the saddle
and bridle and putting them upon his own shoulders,
bade me good-by and left me with my purchase.

"Well," said I, "we have got a horse but no saddle
or bridle." There stood the animal, hearing what we
had to say of him, and riding him was out of the ques-
tion, for we were quite sensitive in those parts which
were to come in contact with his back, — such a back,
too, as sharp as a knife. So I left him with Parks to
be careful that he did not run away while I went to a
farm-house near by to try and get a saddle and bridle.
I do not think, however, there was need of any fear as
to our steed's escaping, for he looked as if he had never
run in his lifetime, and Don Quixote's Rosinante was
a fool compared to him in leanness, — although his hair
was thick you could count every rib, — nevertheless he
was fierce enough for us who were no horsemen.

When I reached the farm-house I told my story and
begged the gift of any kind of an old saddle. With
some hemming and hawing the person who lived there
told me he had one and sent a boy to bring it. It
proved to be an old Dutch saddle, which, made in
Noah's ark, had been in use ever since, to judge from
its appearance. As there were no stirrups the man
rigged up two ropes to answer in their place, and
gave me an additional piece of rope to tie around
the animal's neck for a bridle, charging me two dol-
lars for the whole. Thus was I fitted out, with my
Hessian brass-handled sword with its two tassels and

1:453

my war-horse which was to carry two of us for 350
miles.

As the horse was mine I told Parks he should share
It with me and we would ride tie and tie; that Is, I
would ride It two miles, and, tying It In the road, walk
on, and when he came up he would mount and overtake
me; thus would we go on as far as the horse would
carry us, paying for his feed between us. I mounted
him first and set off, but the rope stirrups hurting my
feet, I had to bear all of my weight upon my body,
and, being very sore thereabouts, you may depend I
had no very pleasant time of It. When I got off I could
hardly stand, but I tied the horse to a post and crawled
on half bent and very sore from the old Dutch saddle,
which was as hard as Iron. In this way we kept on for
three or four days, when at last poor Parks gave out
and could go no farther, so I was left alone. On 1
went, sometimes riding, sometimes walking, and finally,
near sundown, drew up my horse at a point where two
roads diverged at a small angle. Neither was much
beaten, and, no house being near, I took the one I
thought best, which led me through a thick wood out
upon a swamp or meadow. Here my horse stopped
and would go no farther — It was about eight o'clock at
night and dark as pitch — so I got off and began to bang
him, but he would turn around and go another way.
"Well," thinks I, "you may go which way you will; I'll
follow." So on we went for an hour longer through
the woods, the wolves, foxes, or some other creatures
making different bowlings or noises. I had seen too
much danger to be afraid of these, however, and be-
sides my horse was a great deal of company, though I
will confess that In my present quandary I had quite for-
gotten about my ailments. After traveling an hour and
a half longer I saw an opening before me, and then a
rail fence which I followed until I came to a small
farm-house.

[46]

In I went and the people were very glad to see me,
for they had a son In the army and were delighted with
my description of the battle of Trenton, where we had
but two or three men killed in the whole affray and
took upward of 900 prisoners. I was given a supper
of mush and milk and a blanket to lie down on by the
fireside, and, rising early to proceed on my journey, the
people told me I had missed my road, and, carrying
through the fields, showed me the right one. I bade
them good-by and continued onward with my old horse,
nothing material happening to me until my arrival at
a place called King's Ferry^*^ on the west side of the
Hudson or North River, in the State of New York.
Here I was detained three or four days as the river
was filled with large cakes of ice; these, however, at
last parted in such a way as to leave an opening for the
ferry-boat to venture across. The boat had four or five
horses in it, besides being filled with passengers, and
we just got across in time to jump out, for a large cake
of ice, near half a mile long, coming down with the tide,
struck the boat and carried it some distance down the
river. Some of the horses, I recollect, were then in her,
but whether I got mine out or not I have forgotten.
This much I do remember, however, that I traveled
home on foot from the east side of the North River.
When I arrived at my father's house in Boston the
first thing done was to bake my clothes and then to
anoint me all over with brimstone.

I had then been in the army twenty months and had
received during that time only six months' pay for all
my services; I have never asked nor applied to Con-
gress for the residue since, and I never shall.

^•^ Communication was kept up by means of flatboats with Ver-
planck's Point on the eastern side; "it was the main crossing place
of troops moving between the Eastern and Middle States."

[47]

CHAPTER IV
Sails with Captain Manley in the Cumberland;

A PRISONER IN THE BaRBADOES ; RELEASE AND
RETURN HOME

A FTER I had been home two or three months/
/-% I began to feel uneasy and wanted to go to sea,
^ -^ so one day I went down on board a privateer-
ship of eighteen 6-pounders, called the Cumberland,
and commanded by that great fighting man, Commo-
dore Manley. The crew was composed of 130 men,
and I, then seventeen years of age,^ entered as the
steward's mate and acted as midshipman. Our inten-
tion was to cruise off the island of Barbadoes and inter-
cept the outwardbound West Indian fleet of merchant-
men. On the voyage we fell in with a large ship which
had become dismasted in a gale of wind while running
from St. Johns, Newfoundland, to Halifax, Nova
Scotia, and was, when we came up with her, rolling
about like a hogshead, keel out. She had on board a
number of British soldiers, some clothing, and wine.
These latter articles were taken out, a prize-master^

^ As before stated in the Introduction (p. xvi), there is a lapse of
two years in the narrative, Captain Manley having sailed from
Boston early in 1779.

^ Should be "nineteen years of age."

^ The prize, a transport with recruits for the Nova Scotia vol-
unteers, was recaptured, when close to Martinique, by the Venus,
36, Captain William P. Williams.

1:48]

appointed, and, having rigged up jury-masts, the vessel
was sent to Martinique. This was in the year 1779
(sic). A few days after taking the prize we saw the
island of Barbadoes and sailed near enough to see three
signal flagstafifs at Bridge Town or Carlisle Bay. It
was late in the afternoon, so we 'bout ship and stood
off from the land with our head to the eastward, under
easy sail all night, in expectation of seeing a prize in
the morning.

About seven o'clock the next day (circa January 26,
1779), a vessel was seen bearing down toward us with
steering-sails set below and aloft; we likewise set all
sail upon a wind and stood for her, running in a short
time close under her larboard quarter. She proved
to be the Pomona, frigate, thirty-six guns, 9- and 12-
pounders, etc., 300 men, and as we had only eighteen
guns, 130 men, we were obliged to try and make our
escape. The frigate quickly took in her steering-sails,
hauled her wind, and stood after us, but we held her a
good tug all day until nine o'clock at night, firing at
each other during the chase. One very singular circum-
stance happened during the day. The captain of the
maintop came down into the cockpit for a drink, and as
he turned to go back observed that he was certain he
should never come down again alive, and it was but a
few minutes after he reached the top that a double-
headed shot cut him right in half. Sometimes the ships
would be within musket-shot of each other, at other
times a quarter of a mile apart, depending altogether
upon the wind, which was squally; had it been a mod-
erate breeze we should have got clear from them. As
night came on it began to blow harder, so the captain
thought it best to throw overboard eight of our guns,
start some of the water, and clap the ship away three
points free. This was no sooner done than the frigate,
being right in our wake and within short distance, kept
her course, and, shooting close up under our larboard

1:493

quarter, gave us four or five double-headed and round
shot. Some flew among our rigging and one ball, strik-
ing us abaft the fore-chains, went through and through
the ship, making her shake again. For some minutes
we both lay quiet, the captain of the frigate ordering
us to "strike your d d rebel colors," which I, how-
ever, think looked fully as good as their own. At this
time we had no national colors, and every ship had the
right, or took it, to wear what kind of fancy flag the
captain pleased. Our flag I will describe, as I think it
a very singular one. First it was a very large white
flag with a pine-tree, painted green (27), in the middle
of it, and under the tree the representation of a large
snake, painted black, coiled into thirteen coils and cut
into thirteen pieces, emblematical of the thirteen United
States; then under that the motto "Join or Die" was
written in large black letters.

During the interval in which they were damning our
flag and threatening to sink us, all hands were called
aft to arm themselves with swords and pistols for
boarding. Both vessels were then under steerageway
and very near each other, and as our ship was to lee-
ward of the Pomona, Captain Manley intended to clap
the helm down and so let the frigate run her head or
bow right amidships of us. In this event the Cumber-
land would have been sunk, and he who got out on
board the frigate first would be best fellow. I presume
we would have had a pretty tight scratch of it, for we
had 130 picked men and not a sick one on board; I
looked upon us as a match for their 300, and am con-
fident we would have overpowered them, taking them
as we should have unexpectedly. But the misfortune
of it was that, on opening the arm-chests, not more than
thirty cutlasses and a few miserable pikes were found,
so the captain gave it up and ordered the colors to be
struck. This was no sooner done than the sailors
rushed to the store-room, got out the liquor by pails-

>^

M

\> -v-

ful, and became as drunk as so many devils. The regi-
mental red coats of the British soldiers, which we had
taken on our prize, were stowed away in the bread
room; these also the sailors got at, for all was now
good plunder, and rigged out in them, some too long
and some too short, with shirt collars thrown open,
tarry trousers, and all different manner of phizes, it
would have made a saint laugh to see the men tumbling
about.

Meanwhile the frigate kept constantly hailing us to
hoist out our boat and bring the captain on board,
threatening to sink us if we did not obey; but as all dis-
cipline was now at an end not a sailor would get down
the tackles. At last the petty officers made out to lower
the small jolly-boat and our captain and two men went
aboard the frigate, but had no sooner left their boat
than it was dashed against the frigate's main-chains
and stove to pieces, for the sea was running very high
at the time. The Pomona was obliged to get out her
long-boat to take off our men, numbers of whom were
now lying about the deck in their long red coats, dead
drunk. When the British officer came aboard he ex-
claimed: "D your bloods! I believe you are all

soldiers. Come, come, tumble into the boat and be

d d to you! Bear a hand!" Some attempted to

get in, others were taken up and thrown into the boat
like dead hogs. I could not refrain from laughing, for
I do not think I ever saw so funny a sight.

I tied up a few pounds of chocolate, a little sugar,
and some biscuit in a handkerchief, put some clothes in
a small bag, and jumped into the boat with the rest. As
soon as we were on board the frigate we were mustered
on the quarter-deck and the master-at-arms was or-
dered to search us and take away all our knives. He
obeyed his order punctually and with precision, for he
took good care to secure everything else that we had
in our pockets. A young midshipman with a very de-

1:51]

mure, innocent-looking face came up to me and told
me to give my things into his charge, as he would take
good care of them for me; he did so, for I never saw
them again. Well, after having been plundered of
everything, we were driven into the lower hold, among
the cables, water-casks, and the devil knows what, for it
was as dark as pitch and as hot as an oven. Here we
were stowed so close that we had no room to stand, sit,
or lie, except partly on each other, for with the excep-
tion of the captain, doctor, first and second lieutenants,
and captain's clerk, we had all, officers and men, to the
number of 125, been placed indiscriminately together.
The sailors, being for the most part drunk, were soon
snoring, but I could not sleep, could in fact scarcely
breathe owing to the excessive heat, as we were now
in the West India climate. Presently I ventured to
climb up a post that had notches in it, and sat down on
the edge of the hatchway, which was open, to get a
little air. I soon found the sentry to be asleep, however,
so passed by him and, groping my way to the scuttle
leading to the boatswain's store-room, down I went.
As I was descending I put my foot, I presume, upon a
rolled up steering-sail, but at the time I thought it was a
dead man and that a number of them had been put there
so that the funeral services might be said over them on
the morrow, preparatory to launching them overboard.
What made me think this was that we had had a fair
chance all day, at times, to fire our stern-chasers plump
into her forecastle, — in short, if we had not cut away
her rigging as we did, she would have taken us before.
You may imagine that I scampered up the hole faster
than I went down and resumed my seat on the edge
or combings of the hatchway, near the sentry who was
still asleep. Although I knew that he would drive me
down into the hold again if I woke him up, and perhaps
run his bayonet through me, I pitied him, knowing that
if caught asleep on his post he would be whipped, re-

ceiving from one to two hundred lashes, so I ran the
risk and awakened him. The first words he said were:
"For God's sake, go down into the hold!" I begged
him to let me sit there awhile, but he said it was as much
as his life was worth to do it, and that I must go down,
so down I went into the oven again and toughed it out
with the rest of them without a drop of water to cool our
tongues. Neither did we have a drop until the next day at
eleven o'clock. Judge for yourself how dry and thirsty
the majority of our men must have been, who were so
confoundedly drunk when first put down into the hold.
The next day was what is called "banyan-day," that
is, the whole ship's crew have a pea-soup without
meat for dinner. At eleven o'clock they gave us
some water to drink which was slimy and stank as
badly as excrement, and at noon the cook, or some other
devil, came to the hatchway with a large tub of boiled
peas, as thin as water. At this time as many as could
get there were crowded under the hatchway to get a
little breath of air, so the old fellow, as he lowered the
tub down, cried out: "Hello, below there! Clear the

way ! Scaldings, scaldings, and be d d to you, my

boys!" As soon as the tub was down every one who
could get nigh tried to obtain some of the peas, but we
had nothing either to put them in or to dip them out
with, so at last they lent us a tin pot, when we were a
little better off. With the peas they gave us some
broken biscuit full of worm holes, which was in fact
the mere shadow of bread. As I had nothing to get the
peas in I took my hat, knocked the crown in with my
fist, and receiving some of the mess in the rude bowl
thus formed, ate it out with my mouth like a hog when
it was cool. Thus were we treated for three or four
days, remaining all the while in the ship's hold, until our
arrival^ in Barbadoes harbor (28), when we were mus-
tered on deck to be transported ashore.

* January 29, 1779.

[53]

When we were landed and were going up to the
prison,^ the negro slaves were permitted to throw stones
at us; which they did, saying: "There goes the New
Gengelan (England) men that used to fetch fish here
for us with one eye," meaning split mackerel; for when
herrings were dealt out to them they received a whole
one, but they never had more than half a mackerel at
a time, as they were a larger fish. We were now con-
ducted into the prison yard, which was surrounded by
walls on the top of which had been placed broken bot-
tles mixed with mortar, to prevent any person get-
ting over. Here we were kept, under a hot sun, from
noon until sundown, when they told us we must all go
down into the dungeon. This we did although we had not
received a mouthful to eat during the whole day. Some
Spanish and French prisoners whom they had, were per-
mitted to be kept in the upper rooms, but as we were
called "rebels" they chose to punish us more severely.

Our dungeon consisted of three apartments connected
together, the floors of which were nothing but mud
and clay, and, on account of the heavy rains prevalent
in the West Indies, the water had settled in the center
of these to the depth of two inches. Every part of the
place was at times wet and damp, yet here on the
ground we were obliged to lie, having been robbed of
everything except what we had on our backs. We had
nothing to eat until the next day, when each man re-
ceived some meat and three potatoes, though my
share of the former article I could have swallowed in
two mouthfuls. No bread was furnished us, nor do
I recollect that they gave us a particle during the five
months we were kept on the island.

^ The common jail at Bridgetown, in which prisoners of war
were confined, was destroyed in the hurricane of October lO, 1780.
The Government had made no provision for maintaining the pris-
oners, and the governor of the island, the Honorable Edward Hay,
advanced considerable sums for their support.

[54]

An amusing circumstance occurred when we were
first put in the dungeon, which I will now relate. We
had among us a boatswain whose name was Jack Brady ;
he was a very cross, severe man when on board, and
as he would often strike the seamen unnecessarily, they
owed him a grudge. When we had all fairly got down
into the place, which was as dark as pitch, one fellow
called out for Jack Brady, and as soon as he answered
to his name, some one knocked him down, which pres-
ently brought on a general battle, for he would strike
out indiscriminately. Thus, keeping it up and passing
the blows round, they would knock each other over into
the water until, what with bloody noses, mud, and clay,
they were besmeared all over.

The next day we were all mustered out into the
prison yard to undergo an examination, as they intended
to pick out as many of our fellows as they pleased and
put them on board the different men-of-war then lying
in the harbor. The yard was filled with people who
came from curiosity to see the "rebels," for many of
them were fools enough to think we were a different
kind of animal from themselves. (If we were not we
must have been miserable creatures indeed, for the
Creoles, as they are called, are a poor set of shabby
fellows; I mean the lower class.) As we had been in-
formed by the turnkeys that the officers were coming
to distribute us through the fleet, five or six of us had,
during the night, tried to break through the wall and
make our escape into the town; but just as we had
nearly accomplished our design, the patrol discovered
us and we were obliged to stop, I then determined to
try another scheme to prevent myself alone from being
taken away, for I had rather have stayed where I was
than go on board a man-of-war. When we were called
out into the yard on the morrow, such a spectacle as our
men presented was, I presume, never seen, — blood and
dirt from head to heels, some with their eyes and some

[55]

with their noses swelled up, etc. They selected sixty-
odd of us, myself among the rest, and then drove us
all together down into the dungeon again, saying they
meant to take us away the next day at eleven o'clock.
On the succeeding day, at ten o'clock, I called to our
doctor, who had the liberty of the yard, and told him I
wanted an emetic, which I meant to take to prevent my
being carried on board a man-of-war. The doctor
had been allowed to keep his medicine-chest, so he got
me what I wanted, and I took it, but as it did not work
readily and the drums had begun to beat, I asked the
doctor for another dose. He gave it to me and I swal-
lowed it immediately. In a few minutes, and just as the
soldiers who were coming after us marched into the
prison yard, the emetic I had taken began to operate. I
thought I should have thrown up my entrails and shall
never forget how sick I was. Two lackeys or turn-
keys dragged me out of the dungeon and supported me
between them, for I could hardly stand, while the others
were driven out. As I was very young I had been
chosen by a particular officer who, however, did not
now recognize me, and on being told upon inquiry where
I was, he reprimanded the turnkeys severely for their
usage, etc., and left me. Sixty-odd of us were taken
away and the remainder returned to the dungeon, where
for about a month we stayed, starving in the old way,
before anything material happened.

The captain, doctor, lieutenant, and captain's clerk
were not confined in the dungeon, but were allowed
their liberty night and day. In the middle of the small
grate which admitted air and a little light to our apart-
ment was an ironwood support, and the doctor one eve-
ning gave me a small saw to remove this with. As the
instrument, however, had a brass back, being such a
one as is used to take off limbs with, there yet remained
about an inch only of the wood which we could not get
through after sawing upon each side of the post, and

C56]

we were therefore obliged to relinquish our design of
getting out. The plan was concocted by Captain Man-
ley and communicated only to a few of us petty officers,
as it would have been dangerous for the whole of us
to attempt escaping at one time. The captain had pro-
cured ropes and constructed a ladder to throw over the
prison wall, by which means we were to effect our escape
into the town. Our part of the plan failed as I have
related, but Captain Manley, the doctor, lieutenant,
and clerk succeeded In reaching the town, and although
a number of men-of-war and other vessels were lying
in the harbor, they took a schooner and, running
through the whole of them, got off clear. The saw was
so thin that the jail keeper never found out that we had
attempted to make our escape, and we were treated
pretty much In the same old way; but after a confine-
ment of about four months and a half in the dungeon
they put us into one of the upper rooms; I think there
were perhaps sixty of us left out of the original one
hundred and twenty-five (29).

One night we heard a great noise outside, and on
going to the window to look down in the yard of the
prison where the alarm drum was beating, we saw, as
it was moonlight, the whole place filled with people of
all descriptions. Of these some were armed with guns
and others with swords, clubs, and even spits, and they
all appeared to be very courageous and ready to attack
poor, unarmed, half-starved prisoners; it would have
made you laugh to see them and to hear the threats
which they used toward us. All this bustle and con-
fusion, however, was occasioned by some thirty Spanish
prisoners" who were in a room above us, a quarrel
among them having ended in their fighting and stab-
bing each other with their knives. Mr. Callender, the
prison keeper, opened the front door and let the mob

" About this time Don Pedro de San Jago's Spanish Regiment
of Aragon was here confined.

into the entry, or hall, which led to our room. I must
observe that the doors of the rooms in the West India
prison are not solid, but made like a grate, with iron, so
as to give air, the holes or squares being big enough to
put your head through. The mob, thinking we were
trying to escape, surrounded our door and, had the
jailer permitted them to have got in, I really believe
they would have killed some of us.

Determined to sell our lives as dear as possible we
prepared to meet them. We first brought close up to
the door a half-barrel or tub which had been placed in
the room for the accommodation of several of our men
who were at the time very sick, and five or six of us
stood ready with tin pots to greet the enemy if they at-
tempted to unlock the door. We were likewise armed
with black or junk-bottles which, holding by the necks,
we intended to dash against the grated door so that
the fragments would fly among them. They saw
our warlike preparations and when we stirred up
our ammunition, afraid of catching the jail-distemper
and almost suffocated, they soon left the doorway clear,
— we were used to it, however, and did not mind it. So
you see these brave, daring fellows were fairly driven
off without even the smell of gunpowder or the appear-
ance of a single weapon. They then went up-stairs
where the Spanish prisoners were, but dared not enter
the room, and Mr. Callender thereupon opened our
door, after inquiring if we would venture among the
combatants to quell them. Up we went, without arms,
and soon quieted them, and taking the ring-leader, or
head of the disturbance, who was then stabbed in the
breast with a knife, shut the door and brought him
down. The jail keeper put him in irons, hands and
feet, and placing a heavy chain around his neck, drew
his head down close to his feet, which brought him al-
most double like a ball, as it were. He was then thrown

an

into what they called the "dark hole," — bad enough
you may depend.

A short time after this last event happened we were
informed that a cartel, or vessel to release us, had been
sent from Martinique, a French island. We were ac-
cordingly conducted on board, carried to the Island,
and landed at Port St. Pierre (30).

When put on shore I had neither hat, coat, shoes, nor
stockings, and only half a pair of trousers, half a shirt,
and about half a pound of pork which I carried in the
bosom of it. I walked alone away from the houses
along the beach, and pulled off my wardrobe; washed
that first and laid It on the sand to dry, and then pro-
ceeded to do the same by my own self. As I was thus
engaged, with my head to the land, I heard a voice hal-
looing: "Jack! Jack Greenwood ! Here, my boy, come
out of the water." I did not at first even look around,
supposing it was one of my fellow prisoners. As my
intention was to enter on board a French privateer-
schooner which was then lying In the harbor, I felt my-
self entirely independent. (This I always did feel,
however, and can safely say I never have been what is
called melancholy or dissatisfied, but always took things
as they came; good and bad, of course, were the same
to me, and are so now.) Well, I turned around and

saw an old schoolmate of mine, J. D e, who was

mate of a Boston brig then lying in the harbor and

commanded by my father's cousin. Captain W w.^

D e, who is now captain of a vessel belonging to

this port and resides here with his family, soon con-
ducted me on board the brig, where I was made wel-
come. After a few days, during which time I had been

"^ Probably (Isaac) Winslow; a captain of this name commanded
in 1777 the schooner Anna, belonging to Mr. Samuel Pitts, running
from Boston to Martinique, and the Newport Mercury of May
27, 1780, announces arrival of Captain Winslow on the 20th, at
Boston, in twenty-two days from Dominica, a small island between
Guadeloupe and Martinique.

C59:

on and off shore occasionally, I was taken quite sick and
full of pains, owing, I presume, to a different course of
living. The doctor came on board and bled me and,
with my vigorous constitution, I soon recovered.

Captain W w procured me a passage homeward,

to a place called Plscataway,^ about sixty miles east of
Boston, and to defray my expenses In reaching the lat-
ter place when I should have arrived he likewise gave
me a tierce of molasses. I went on board the brig
which was commanded by one Captain Roach of Plscat-
away, as big a villain as ever I saw, and I have had an
opportunity of seeing many. The vessel was very leaky
and badly provided with everything, sails, rigging,
provisions, etc., nevertheless I was glad of an oppor-
tunity to reach home soon, for I wanted to get at the
enemy again and pay them off the old score. On our
passage home the pumps were kept going all the time,
and this, together with the working of the vessel, fairly
wore the men out, so that, what with bad treatment,
the yellow fever, and all together, nearly the whole
crew died. I was pretty well seasoned to all manner
of complaints, as I had served a good apprenticeship
in the prison, and therefore I stood the voyage toler-
ably well ; the want of provisions I was used to and did
not mind.

When off New York, or rather the south side of Long
Island, In latitude about forty degrees north, we were
espied one day by a privateer-sloop. Our vessel had a
deep waist with port-holes for guns but did not mount
any, so while the enemy was chasing and reconnoltering
us, I made five or six wooden guns from some pieces
of joist by spiking them together and roughly chopping
Into shape. I then nailed a piece of board on the back
of them, opened the port-holes, and fastened them on
the inside, — at a distance they looked like guns. We
then got dirty blankets up into the fore and maintops

^ In the vicinity of Portsmouth, New Hampshire.

for top armor, and nailing a piece of board across some
handspikes for arms, we placed our jackets on them to
make it appear as though we had a number of men on
board. When cleverly fixed we shortened sail and hove
our maintopsail to the mast, although there was not
a gun on board to my remembrance. The privateer
then ventured to come a little closer, though still keep-
ing at quite a respectable distance, we meanwhile walk-
ing between and passing our effigies or false men, so
that at last the enemy got afraid of us, hauled his wind,
and went off.

In a few days we arrived at our destined port, at a
time when the famous Penobscot expedition was fit-
ting out from Boston. An officer from the United
States ship-of-war Hampden,^ then lying in the harbor
of Piscataway, was soon alongside of our brig to press
men for the expedition, but when he came on board
and found some of our crew sick and dying, he flew
from us like a bird and left us. At one time a sailor
who lay in his hammock next to me caught hold of my
left arm while I was asleep and tore the wristband from
my shirt. I awoke and in a moment dealt him such a
blow with my right that he let go, — poor fellow, he
was dying but I did not know it.

I went on shore, sold my tierce of molasses, and
traveled home on foot. No emperor or king could feel
so happy as I then was, and there is a good and true
saying that no person ever knows what happiness or
pleasure is without first seeing adversity. Even in ad-
versity there is pleasure, which exists chiefly in our dis-
positions, or rather in the virtue of contentment. As

^ The New Hampshire ship Hampden, 22, Captain Salter, and
the Massachusetts ship Hunter, 20, Captain Brown, were the only
two vessels of the expedition secured, August 14, 1779, by the
enemy's squadron under Sir George Collier. The rest were all
burned or blown up by the Americans, including the United States
frigate Warren, 32, on which their commodore. Captain Dudley
Saltonstall, had hoisted his striped flag and broad pennant.

this is not the gift of every one, there are many who
find fault even with the all-bountiful God, whereas did
they but pay a little attention they would quickly find
out that the cause of all their pretended troubles lies
in themselves alone. Whoever reads these lines which
I have hastily written will, I hope, profit by them; learn
to be ever contented, as it is always against you to be
otherwise, and never be the cause of awakening dis-
content in others. Always suffer yourself rather than
offend another ; this I well know is, as it were, an impos-
sible thing, yet nevertheless we may in a measure miti-
gate our faults, which it is in the nature of every one
to have, — he that is without them, as the Scriptures say,
let him heave the first stone.

C623

CHAPTER V

Sails with Captain D. Porter in the Tartar ;
many prizes taken; vessel sinks at port-au-
Prince; returns in the General Lincoln,
Captain J. Carnes; is captured and taken to
New York; eludes imprisonment and again
reaches Boston

ON my arrival home I was taken very 111 and con-
fined to my bed for many days, but at length
recovered. As I was naturally very active,
however, I could not long content myself 'while my
fellow-countrymen were abroad contending for their
freedom, so I entered on board a ship (the Tartar),
twenty-eight double-fortified 6-pounders, with a
crew of 150 good fellows, commanded by Captain D.
Porter (31), of Boston. I served as master-at-arms.
This was in the month of November ; the year I forget,
but I think it must have been 1778 or 1779. We had
orders to cruise off New York, but unfortunately we
were blown by a gale of wind into the Gulf Stream. The
wind, being at northeast, was directly against the cur-
rent, thus making a terrible cross sea which hove up
mountains high. It continued to blow six days and
nights and the pumps were kept constantly at work,
for, with four feet of water in the hold and the ship
so old and crazy, we expected to go to the bottom
every moment. Soon the gallows that bore up the

spar-deck gave way. I was on the gangway trying
to support it, or at least help support it, when one of
the spars struck me, and if I had not caught hold of
the gangway rail, it would have knocked me overboard.
It was at night, dark as pitch, and they cried out that
I was overboard, but I told them I was safe. The
gale at last abated, and Captain Porter, thinking our
ship was not fit to cruise off New York in the winter
season, concluded to go to the West Indies.

Off the island of Jamaica we very soon took three
prizes and carried them up to Port-au-Prince in His-
paniola, into which place, after refitting our ship and
proceeding to Jamaica again, we presently brought
some more prizes. Our ship was so old, crazy, and
leaky that we were obliged to nail strips of rawhide
over the seams of her upper works in order to keep
the oakum in place. For six months we continued
cruising round the island of Jamaica, landing some-
times twice a week, in fact as often as we felt inclined
to do so, to procure fresh provisions such as hogs,
sheep, and poultry. This was in spite of the great
vigilance and superiority of the British cruisers, for
our vessel was always disguised in such a manner that
they could never tell where we were, from any infor-
mation given them from the shore. At times her sides
would be painted black or yellow or red, occasionally
we would run our guns in, strike the topgallantmast,
and appear like a ship in distress ; and we had a number
of such manoEUvers for deception.

Our first lieutenant was Major P y,^ of Rhode

Island, a brave, good-natured man. One night I ac-
companied him in our seven-oared barge, going ashore
on the island of Jamaica for a frolic, as we always
called it. There were thirteen of us in the party, all
officers, and I think of pretty good spunk. While the

^Probably one of the Perry family of South Kingston, Rhode
Island.

C643

ship lay to, a small distance from the shore, we landed
and, leaving two of our number to keep the barge off
the surf, eleven of us proceeded along the shore, each
being armed with a man-of-war cutlass and a small
gun. On we sauntered, passing several plantation
houses at some distance from the water, until one of
our party, S. Harris, observed to our lieutenant that he
saw a flagstaff, for the moon shone as bright as day.
The lieutenant asked him if he was afraid; he an-
swered, "Not at all. I only mentioned it that you
might be informed." "Well," says the lieutenant, "all
of you sit down under the bushes and I will go and
see what it is." We were then about three miles from
our boat. In half an hour the lieutenant returned
and informed us that the place was nothing but a small
fort with a parcel of Creoles or West Indians in it,
and that there was a brig lying in front of it; if we
liked, he said, we could take the fort and cut out the
brig. This we all agreed to do. "Now," says he, "be
careful and don't fire until you get right in amongst
them; then fire, draw your swords, and have at them;
we will quick drive them out of the fort."

On we went, six of us on one side of the road and
five on the other, and when we came up to the fort
we rushed right into it. The sentry fired and they all
ran out from the back part into a sugar-cane field.
The fort mounted seven guns and had been garrisoned
by fifty-odd men. After a few moments they began
to fire their small arms into the fort. Some of us
were in the guard-house at the time, and I observed
to the lieutenant that it would be best to spike the
cannon, but, unfortunately, we had nothing to do this
with. We were in possession of the place about a
quarter of an hour when one. Bob Henry, asked the
lieutenant what we were to do. He answered, "We
must scout mozzy and run fezer!" ^ that is, we must

^This seems like the phonetic rendering of a Dutch phrase.

n65]

get to the boat as quick and as well as we could. So
we all started and ran, the enemy flanking us in the
bushes. These soon served as a place of concealment
for Jack Taylor, an Englishman who had given out,
and then for Sam Harris, a Bostonian who gave out
and hid himself. At last we reached our boat
and in we tumbled, but just as the last fellow was
getting in a ball struck him in the neck. However,
we quickly rowed to the ship, made sail, and stood
off. The way we came to know how many were in the
fort was that Sam Harris, in about four or five weeks,
got clear from them and came up to Port-au-Prince,
where our rendezvous was. He told us there were
fifty-odd men in the fort, who, from the noise we made,
took us for Spaniards from the island of Cuba, and
had run out thinking there were at least 200 of us.
When they found out we were but eleven in all, they
were astonished at our boldness.

At length while cruising about we saw a small
schooner, and giving chase came up with and took
her. She proved to be a pirate mounting swivels on the
combings of her hatchways — a Spaniard from the
island of Cuba. The crew was taken out and we
manned her ourselves, I being appointed second in
command. With the schooner we went near the shore,
behind a cape or point of land not far from a place
called, I think. Black River, in the island of Jamaica,
while our ship kept off some distance with British
colors flying. As the drogers came round the point
and saw us they would haul off to our ship for protec-
tion, thinking it was an English vessel, so that in a
few days we took eleven sail of vessels, brigs, sloops,
and one ship of eighteen guns (32), and carried them
all into Port-au-Prince. We made about thirty prizes
during the whole cruise. We concluded finally to fit
our ship at Port-au-Prince, run down once more to
Jamaica, cruise a little while, and then go home through

the Gulf Stream between the island of Cuba and Cape
Florida. Early one morning, however, as we were
coming out of the Bight of Logan (Leogane) and
nearly up with Cape Tibaroone (Tiburon), we saw
three ships-of-war which were sent from Jamaica to
take us. I must here observe that our ship sailed very
fast, for we had been frequently chased by a superior
force which could not overtake us. As soon as the
ships were discovered to be men-of-war, we wore ship
and stood back for Port-au-Prince, but they brought
the sea breeze in with them and began to come up
with us very fast, so that we were obliged to run into
a small place called Petit Goave. As we went in our
ship struck on the rocks and began to leak so badly
that in a short time there were four feet of water in
the hold. Meanwhile the fort on shore commenced
firing on the English ships, thus keeping them off at
a distance, and they, seeing us among the rocks, finally
quitted us and went off. We got our ship safely off
and went up to Port-au-Prince, but were there only a
short time when she sank to the bottom and was lost,
the crew being obliged to shift for themselves as well
as they could.

For my part I got on board a letter-of-marque brig
(the General Lincoln) bound for Salem in the State of
Massachusetts, commanded by Captain (John) Carnes
(33). She mounted six guns, 6-pounders, and took on
board nine of our men, so that in all her crew I think
we had about twenty-five. As the vessel leaked very
much I, being handy with tools, was often employed in
rigging and leathering the pump-boxes, so they called
me carpenter. When we had got into latitude about
2,S° N., or somewheres off the capes of Philadelphia,
we saw a ship in chase of us called the Iris,^ of about

^ This vessel, one of the fastest in the British navy, was for-
merly the Continental frigate Hancock, 32, Captain John Manley,
captured July 8, 1777.

C67]

twenty guns. Our brig sailed very well, but at length
the frigate came so near that we could fire at her with
our stern-chaser, and at it we went. After a while
she ranged up alongside and we were ordered to strike
the rebel flag or they would sink us, so the flag was
struck and, our boat not being fit for service, they
hoisted out their own boat and came on board. Every

one of us was taken off; "Not a d d rebel shall

stay on board!" they said, the reason being that they
had taken an American privateer and one or two of
her crew, left on board, had blown up themselves, the
prize-crew, and the vessel all together. However,
when they found the brig leaked very much and heard
there was a carpenter, as they called me, on board, I
was returned to the vessel to repair the pumps, etc.
These I forthwith began to make myself very busy in
examining, for I would rather be on board the prize
than stowed away in the hold of a ship-of-war, treated
like a dog or ten times worse. In a few days we ar-
rived together at New York; the ship-of-war dropped
her anchor abreast the Battery and we went up the
East River and dropped our anchor abreast the Fly
Market,^ near what they called the Commissary's
Wharf.

As soon as the anchor was down arrangements were
made for hauling the brig in, and for this purpose
warps or ropes were carried to the wharf, which at
this time was crowded with people from the market
who had come to look at the rebel prize. Just as the
brig was within ten yards of the wharf a boat from
the Iris came alongside with an oflicer who had been
sent after me, for they thought I was a real carpenter.
As he came on deck he inquired where the carpenter
of the brig was; I stood near him and answered im-

* This market, from the Dutch word "Vlaie," meadow or valley,
was at the end of Maiden Lane, and was the most important one
in the city.

mediately, "Here, sir!" "Well, my lad," says he, "get
your duds (meaning clothes) and jump into the boat
alongside." I answered with a seemingly good will,
"Yes, sir!" and seeing that I appeared very willing,
he took no further notice of me but went into the
cabin and sat down with the prize-master, who began
to treat him with some of our captain's cordials,
brought from the West Indies. I, while they were
talking and drinking right in sight, took my quadrant,
a large book called a "Quarter-Waggoner," my clothes,
and a mattress stuffed with cotton, and, dallying a
little, stood ready to make my escape from them when
the brig was just by the wharf. My plan was this: I
knew that as soon as the brig touched she would be
filled with people to see the rebel prize, as I presume
there were not less than 200 on the wharf. It happened
just as I expected; they jumped on board and I, seiz-
ing the opportunity, crowded in between them, stepped
ashore, and got clear, unseen by the man-of-war's
men, and leaving the lieutenant to find me if he could.
I walked moderately along Water Street as far as
Burling Slip, then turned to the left into Queen (now
Pearl) Street, and went up Golden Hill (now John
Street). The first place I stopped at was Mr. Turk's,^
the turner's shop in Nassau Street, the only person
I had any knowledge of in New York, as I thought.
The way I came to know him was that he made a set of
fifes for our regiment when I was a fife-major. He
asked me where I came from; I told him from
the West Indies and evaded every other ques-
tion as well as I could, as I found he was on
the British side; nevertheless he was a good man,
or one whom I should call a timid, peaceable

^ Ahasuerus Turk, Jr., instrument maker, a freeman of the city,
October i, 1765, headed his craft in the Federal Procession of
July 23, 1788, and was living, 1796, at 36 Nassau Street. He was
a turner and musical instrument maker.

1:693

person. I then recalled that there was a per-
son in New York by the name of Hill,^ the king's
head baker, and that he was a friend of my father,
who favored the English. I inquired of Mr. Turk
if he knew Mr. Hill. He said he did and that he
lived near by in King (now Pine) Street, next door
to the French Church. Off I started in search and
found him standing at the door, dressed in his red
coat. I knew his face immediately and accosted him
with, "How do you do, Mr. Hill?" "Who are you?"
was his answer, for he did not recognize me. I told
him my name was Greenwood. "Oho!" says he, "you
are my friend Greenwood's rebel son John." "Sir,"
said I, "I am your friend's son John. Will you be
so kind as to let me stay a few days in your house,
as I have no home nor a farthing of money in my
pocket?" He asked where I came from; I told him,
evading his questions as I had done before with Mr.
Turk, so that he could not tell whether I belonged to
the British side or not. I was acquainted with his
son John and his daughters, and in a few days, after
I had got familiar with them and found I could talk
freely, I informed him how I had made my escape
from the English, etc. It startled him at first, but he
soon got reconciled and proposed contriving some way
that I might get home. He first said I had better enter
on board a merchantman in the British service, but I
told him I could not think of such a thing. As luck
would have it there was a man who lived in Little Queen
(now Cedar) Street, a chaplain in the army and an ac-
quaintance of my father and Mr. Hill, and between the

•^ Twenty barrels of flour were found in William Hill's bake-
house after the British had evacuated Boston in March, 1776;
he went to Halifax, joined the army, and appears to have come
back with the English to New York, eventually settling at Shel-
burne. Nova Scotia. Francis Hill sold provisions, flour, etc., at
22 King Street, next house to Governor Franklin's, as per Riving-
ton's Gazette, the French Church being No. 20 on the same street

1:703

two they made out to have me returned a prisoner of
war to the commissary of prisoners, Mr. Sproat(34).
I must here remark what a situation I was in whilst
living in New York, which was about six weeks. As
I observed before, I had no money, but my mattress
being stuffed with cotton, which was then scarce, I
thought I could get something for it, and accordingly
carried it to Mr. Watkeys (35), the tallow-chandler
who lived opposite the New Church in Nassau Street,
being the same man who was burnt out. He bought
of me, though what he gave I cannot recollect, but
presume as much as it was worth, for I always thought
him an honest man. However, let it be more or let
It be less, it was all I had to buy my little notions with,
and I stood in need of money, being sick and weak
for more than a fortnight before I was permitted to
go home. There was a cartel bound for New London
lying in the East River, and on board of her I was
allowed to go and scrabble with the rest of the prison-
ers as well as I could. Arriving in a few days, I sold
my quadrant for eight or ten dollars, and then had to
travel home on foot to Boston.

1:713

CHAPTER VI

Again sails with Captain Porter, on the Juror J,
AND later on the Rjce Horse, Captain N.
Thayer; carries a prize brig into Tobago;
buys a schooner, trades on the chesapeake,

AND IS TAKEN BY JOE WaLEN's GALLEY REFENGE;
RECOVERS HIS SCHOONER AND REACHES BALTIMORE
WITH THE PRIZE-CREW

I WAS taken very ill for a few weeks and was con-
fined to the house, but had no sooner recovered
when I started on a letter-of-marque ship (the
Aurora) of sixteen guns, bound to Port-au-Prince in
the island of Hispaniola, and commanded by my for-
mer captain, David Porter. We arrived safe,^ unloaded
our vessel, and while taking on a cargo of sugar bound
for Old France a heavy squall came, fairly upset our
ship, and she sank to the bottom. I was at the time
in a very dangerous situation, for I had been taken sick
a few hours before, and, being an officer, my hammock
had been slung under the half-deck, directly over one

^ On the voyage down Captain Porter overhauled the wreck
of the 64-gun ship Stirling Castle, dismantled in the late hurricane
of October 10, off Cape Nicola Mole, only four men remaining alive
on board, all the rest of her large crew having perished. Under
Captain Carkett this vessel, in Sir George B. Rodney's fleet, had
led the line on the starboard tack in the fight of April 17, 1780,
with the Count de Ginchen. {Massachusetts Spy, December 21,

1780.)

of the guns. The doctor having given me some medi-
cine I had gone to sleep, when a great noise on deck
awakened me. I asked a tailor who sat at work near
by me what was the matter, but the same moment the
ship rolled her gun-ports nearly under on the side op-
posite to where I lay, and as I saw this I caught hold
of the side gun-bolts and got through the port-hole.
As she lay on her beam-ends the men, to save them-
selves, ran out on the masts, which kept her down and
allowed the water to pour into the hatchways like a tor-
rent and with a noise of thunder, so that she soon went
down in the middle of the harbor. We were sur-
rounded by numerous boats which had collected, on
seeing the accident, to pick the men up, but numbers
were left swimming for their lives. Eight men were
in the hold; some got out and some were drowned.
In about a fortnight we raised her, again loaded her,
and went to L'Orient in France, returning from there
to Boston. -

After that I went as second mate on a letter-of-
marque brig out of Boston, commanded by Captain
T r(36), mounting six guns and bound to To-
bago^ in the West Indies. One night during our pas-
sage, being on deck in what is called the morning
watch, I saw a sail bearing down on us, evidently
with the intention of speaking. I let her come pretty
close as she appeared to be in distress, and then went
down into the cabin to awaken the captain and tell him
that we had a prize nearly alongside. He was so
frightened that he jumped out of his berth, undressed

as he was, and said, "D n it! do you want to be

taken prisoner again? Order the yards to be squared

2 The Aurora left L'Orient April 24, and reached Boston May
20, 1781.

^ The island of Tobago was surrendered to a French fleet by
Lieutenant-Governor Fergusson, June 2, 1781, and was not re-
taken by the English till April 14, 1793.

[173 3

and run away from her !" He actually had the yards
squared and stood away, when, finding that our vessel
could outsail her, he ordered us to brace up and
haul our wind. In a short time we were alongside,
when the strange vessel hoisted English colors and
then struck them without our having occasion to fire
a single gun. She proved to be a brig bound from
Rhode Island to Turks Islands for a load of salt, and
had been captured by the British sloop-of-war Hornet,'^
but the English officer, put on board as prize-master,
was so ignorant of navigation that he did not know
where he was, and had so long been looking for the
island of Barbadoes that there was not a mouthful
of bread remaining on board. "Well," says my cap-
tain, "since you have found the prize, you must com-
mand her and carry her to the port we are bound to."
I told him I had no objections and that I would take
her to any friendly port he pleased; so he gave me five
men and I went on board and took the command.

The captain's brig sailing faster than mine and
night coming on, we lost sight of him, but I still
kept on my course after him, and about midnight we
espied a vessel close aboard of us. As good luck would
have it there was a very large man-of-war's trumpet
on board, and the brig was provided with one large
swivel-gun mounted on one of the timber-heads for-
ward. The latter I ordered to be loaded with a strong
charge and two balls, and then went forward and
hailed them, ordering them to heave to directly or I
would sink them. It was so dark they could not see
what we were and made no answer, so I then ordered
Russel to fire the gun at them. He took a brand's
end out of the caboose and fired her; she made a noise
equal to a 4-pounder and, splitting the timber-head
she was fastened to all to pieces, flew clear across the
deck. No sooner was this done than the vessel made

* Hornet, fourteen guns, commanded by Francis Tinsley.

[74:

sail from us as fast as she could, and I got clear of
her.

The next day, about ten o'clock, I saw a sail ahead
which proved to be our brig, and when we were come
up with her the captain said he thought we had been
taken, for he was chased by a privateer. I told him
that I had frightened the privateer away, presuming
it was the same one that had reconnoitered us, and
when I showed him the timber-head split to pieces,
he laughed heartily at such a caper.

In a few days we arrived at Tobago, discharged our
cargo, sold our prize, reloaded the brig, and proceeded
on our voyage, bound to Baltimore and from there
back to Boston. As I did not like, however, to sail
with such a captain, who was afraid of his own shadow,
and as, from the voyage having been altered to return
to the West Indies, I was at liberty to go with him or
not, as I pleased, I quitted him. I had plenty of money
and accordingly proposed to the first mate (whose
name was Myrick) that, as he also did not like the
captain, we should leave together and purchase be-
tween us a small schooner to carry freight to different
ports on the Chesapeake Bay.

A schooner of about forty tons burthen was accord-
ingly procured, of which I owned two thirds, so that we
were both captains. We hired one man to go with us,
and the freight that offered was a load of Indian corn.
We took it in but, not being acquainted with that arti-
cle, never "chined the ceiling," that is, stopped the
cracks to prevent the corn from getting to the pumps.
This corn we were to carry to some iron-works at a
place called Elkridge-Landing, up a river of which
I now forget the name,^ and we were directed to fol-
low another schooner which was going in company
with us. The latter set off, but as our keg had no
water in it I had to go and fill it. This I did, but on

^ The Patapsco River, nine miles southwest of Baltimore.

1:753

returning stopped to get a pint of porter and stayed
rather too long, so that the schooner got out of sight.
My partner began to swear and said, "How shall we
find the place?" I told him by looking after it; that
as we had the name of the place, that was enough.
So I set sail, stood out of the basin, and proceeded on.
After we had gone some distance out I saw a boat
and made toward her, proposing to my partner that
we should ask where the place was we were bound to.

"No," says he, "I'll be d d if I do !" "Well," said

I, "how shall we find it, then?" He was a complete
seaman and could not bear to ask such a question,
"All right," I said, "then I will ask." When we told
them our situation, they politely gave us every neces-
sary information, and away we went in search of our
port, and at last entered and proceeded up the river.
Night coming on a monstrous storm arose, and it be-
gan to blow from the northeast with rain, thunder, and
lightning, but as it was a fair wind we carried sail
to it haphazard. Pretty soon we could not see except
it was by the assistance of the sharp flashes of light-
ning, and at last the river became winding and crooked
and our vessel ran aground, plump on a sand-point,
hard and fast. We had a very small, flat-bottomed
boat made of boards, not much bigger than a coffin,
into the stern of which I took the anchor, placed
some coils of the cable in the bow, and then shoved
the boat out astern, so as to try and haul the schooner
off the same way she got on. When I went toward
the anchor, however, to pitch it over, the boat, by rea-
son of the additional weight in this portion of it, sank
and turned me into the water; but being a good swim-
mer I did not mind it, and soon got on board the
schooner again with the boat safe. By the help of
the lightning we saw a house on shore, about a mile
distant, so I took the boat and proceeded to procure
assistance, but the wind blew so hard I could not get

off to our vessel again before morning, by which time
the storm had abated. As it cleared away, to my great
satisfaction I saw that the schooner had swung off the
point and was riding by the stern-anchor. I went on
board, found my partner asleep and many things afloat
in the cabin, for the vessel leaked, and the pumps being
choked with corn he could not relieve her. Elkridge-
Landing being but a few miles distant from where
we ran ashore, we soon got there, discharged our
freight, and returned to Baltimore. Myrick said he
would rather make a West India voyage than take
another such trip, so sold his part of the schooner to

one Mr. W b, of Fell's Point, Baltimore.

We then took in a freight of rigging and other
articles to carry down to the Piankatank River,^ which
is near the Rappahannock. At this time^ the army
of Cornwallis (37) laid below at Yorktown, We ar-
rived safe, discharged our freight, and took in some
oats for Baltimore; we had likewise seven passengers
who were sutlers, or rum-sellers, to General Washing-
ton's army and had considerable money with them.
It was late in the afternoon on a Sunday that we made
sail out of the river, and the wind and tide being ahead
we concluded to drop anchor. My passengers, and my
partner too, being nearly drunk, all went down into
the cabin to sleep and left the man we had hired and
myself on deck to take care of the vessel. As soon
as the tide turned we hauled up the anchor and, mak-
ing sail from the mouth of the river, stood out into
the bay, the wind still being ahead. After we had
made a good stretch into the bay I hove her about
and stood in for Rappahannock Point. On this point

® Stingray Point ran out between the Rappahannock on the north
and the Piankatank on the south. Off the mouth of the latter
river was Gwynn's Island, and at the entrance of the Rappa-
hannock, on the north side, was Windmill Point.

^ About October, 1781.

1:773

there are a number of dead pine-trees, and close Into
the land at the time there laid at anchor two English
galleys which we did not see as they were behind a
schooner laden with tar which they had taken. One
of these galleys was rowed with thirty-two oars and
had sixty-odd men on board, and the other rowed with
twelve or fourteen oars and had about twenty-five or
thirty men. As I thought all was safe I called up my
partner and desired him to take the helm, for I was
sleepy; then I wrapped myself up In my greatcoat and
went down Into the hold to sleep on the oats. The
hatchway was open and It was apparently but a few
minutes before I heard a great noise on deck with cut-
lasses and swords. I thought at first It was my pas-
sengers playing, as I had some swords on board, so I
halloed out to them to be still. Immediately a fellow
leaped down Into the hold, gave me a stroke or two
with his sword, and bade me jump up on deck. The
first person I saw on coming out of the hold was one
I knew as well as my brother; his name was Mont-
gomery^ and he used to live with Mr. Turk, the turner,
In New York. "Why, Montgomery," said I to him,
In my confusion not seeing the English flag flying, "are
you among these pirates?" No sooner had I made the
observation than the captain of the large galley (called
the Revenge ) , whose name was Walen (38) or Waley,
a tall, slim, gallous-looking fellow In his shirt-sleeves,
with a gold-laced jacket on that he had robbed from
some old trooper on the eastern shore, made answer,
"Sir, I win let you know that I have as good a com-
mission as any seventy-four In his Britannic Majesty's
service!" I told him that I had found out I was mis-
taken, but had thought at first It was one of our own
galleys from Annapolis who would at times board and

^Archibald Montgomery in June, 1783, was among the New
York refugees for Nova Scotia. (Sabine's "American Loyalists.")
See note, page 70.

1

plunder our own vessels. After telling him that it
was the fortune of war, etc., and that I hoped he would
let me have my clothes, he said I should be allowed
to retain them.

The sun was now about half an hour high. My
passengers were ordered to get into the large galley,
but my partner, abusing the captain, was put in irons
and sent into the stern of the small galley under the
care of a negro; all the other men were taken out of
her. An Irishman, one of the passengers, and I were
left on the schooner, and the captain of the small
galley and nine (seven?) others, including Mont-
gomery, were placed on board to manage her. The
captain last mentioned was a mulatto named George,
six feet high and formerly, as I afterward understood,
a slave to Colonel Fitzhugh of Virginia.'' George's gal-
ley was now fastened with her grappling in our stern-
sheets, and left for us to tow along, while Walen, as
it was by this time fairly dark, muffled his oars and
prepared to go up the Piankatank River to rob one Mr.
Gwynn, where we had deposited our freight, among
which was a hogshead of rum.

After giving orders for us to go to Gwynn's Island
and there come to an anchor and wait for him, Walen
set out and accomplished his design. The wind at this
time had shifted and blew fair for Baltimore, and in
beating about to fetch Gwynn's Island, we struck on a
place called Stingray Point, came to an anchor, and
waited till next morning. At daylight a droger, laden
with tobacco, was seen standing alongshore, and our
anchor was immediately taken up and sail set for the
pursuit, the refugees meanwhile firing at her as the chase

^ Colonel William Fitzhugh, of Maryland, aged and blind, lived
near the mouth of the Patuxent River, about half a mile from
the shore; his son Peregrine was recommended by General Wash-
ington, in October, 1778, as a cornet in Colonel George Baylor's
troop.

1:79:

passed by within musket-shot. When it was found im-
possible to overtake the droger with the small galley
in tow, Captain George ordered my partner on board
the schooner and, placing another man in the galley, left
her at anchor and renewed the chase. By this time
the large galley was also in sight, making after the
droger and near enough to fire at her the 6-pound
cannon which she had in her bow. It was without
effect, however, so we gave over the chase and hauled
our wind so as to take the galley in tow again when we
came up with her. Captain George now ordered three
more men on board the latter, making five in all, who
were set at work cleaning the muskets, of which some
would not go off when they were firing at the droger.
We then started in to join the large galley, which was
about six miles off and running for Gwynn's Island.

My partner, W b, the Irishman, and myself

now agreed to retake the schooner, although each of
the four men left upon her was armed with a pair of
pistols, a sword, and gun. Moreover the small galley
was again close in tow with her grapnel in our stern-
sheets. Our plan was to persuade the captain that
there was money hidden in the cabin; this was done
forthwith, and down he went in search of it. There
now remained on deck Montgomery, a person at the
helm steering, and a man by the foremast. As I stood
by the cabin door I called Montgomery to me and,
as he came near, seized him by the collar, tripped him
with my foot, and pitched him into the cabin. At the
same time my partner caught up the cutlass which the
man at the helm had carelessly laid on the stern-sheets,
and running forward struck down the man there. The
helmsman now cried out, "Hein! hein!" which was all

he had time to say, for W b was aft again in an

instant with his cutlass raised, just going to strike him
on the head. At the first alarm the man had hauled
out the tiller and made a stroke at me, but it missed

and dropped out of his hand, and, seeing no chance of
safety, the fellow in a moment jumped over the stern
of the vessel into the water. As the man could not
swim I suppose he drowned; I saw him struggling, but
had too much business to attend to just then to pay any
regard to him, for the galley men in our wake began
to fire at us as fast as they could load their guns. Our
schooner was then all in the wind, in sight of the large
galley, and dropping astern and foul of the smaller
one. I told my partner to run forward and bear off
the jib to wear or fetch the schooner around, so that
we might put her head toward Baltimore; this he did
while I was casting off the main-sheet, which was close
hauled. At this time the galley in tow was so near
that I could have jumped on board her, and the fire
of the muskets almost burned my hair, but they were
such bad marksmen that they did not hit either of us.
Meanwhile I had entirely forgotten the grapnel in our
stern-sheets, but when my partner desired me to heave
it overboard, I took it up and threw it over, exclaiming,
"There, my boys, you have got your galley all to your-
selves !" At the same time they were firing right at me,
shouting, "Fire at that fellow with a greatcoat on !"

Up we went toward Baltimore, without a drop of
water or any provisions on board, for the refugees had
devoured everything we had. Captain George and
Montgomery being in the cabin, the next thing was what
should we do with them. I said it would be best to let
the latter come on deck, go forward, and dress the
wound on the shoulder-bone which my partner had
dealt the man there. I accordingly opened the top
of the companion and told him to come up, bringing
his sword and pistols and likewise those of the captain.
As we had ourselves the pair of pistols taken from the
wounded man, we stood in little fear of the other two.
Montgomery came up trembling like a leaf, for he was
a great coward and I presume never fired a gun in war

US']

during his lifetime. The refugees in general were a
set of gallows-marked rascals, fit for nothing but
thieves; hell-hounds and plunderers from inoffensive,
unarmed people, they seemed to be without any kind of
principle, and I honestly believe that ten honest, re-
ligious, determined men could intimidate or drive a
hundred such vile villains. Their whole object was
plunder, and they paid no manner of regard to the
vessel they despoiled, be it loyal or otherwise; gain was
all they sought, and to acquire from others what they
were, through mere laziness, unable to acquire for
themselves.

Well we got clear of the rascals, but were chased
by the large galley for some time. I then ordered
the famous Captain George to come on deck. He
was very humble and said, "Master, I hope you will
not kill me." I told him I would not if he behaved
himself in a proper manner, but that if he even at-
tempted to make a wry face I would certainly put him
to death; never was a poor devil more submissive.
As the large galley was now in chase of us I told
George, who I knew was a good steersman, to take
the helm, adding that if either through accident or
design he jibed the vessel, I would that instant kill
him. He was much frightened, however, and kept a
bright lookout to avoid such a catastrophe. We were
now wing and wing, that is, right before the wind,
and those in the large galley, finding we outsailed them,
gave over the chase and made for Gwynn's Island,
telling the prisoners who were there put on shore
that had we been overtaken they would have massacred
us. I really believe they would have done it too,
for Captain Walen appeared to me to be as great a
villain as ever was unhung. All such characters in their
employ the British seemed to encourage, as they were
not twopence better themselves. Read their history
and you will be satisfied of it if you are an honest man.

After many difficulties, such as starvation, being very
thirsty and dry, running Smith's Point and among the
Tangier Islands, we arrived safe at Baltimore. On
the route we were again attacked by another pirate,
as I call them, the Chesapeake Bay being at that time,
when the army of Cornwallis was at Yorktown, in-
fested by innumerable picaroons, barges, galleys, and
small privateers; it was a great chance that we escaped
the villains.

As soon as we touched the wharf and the people
learned that we had been taken and had recaptured
our vessel, they came on board, took out the prisoners,
and, carrying them up to a blacksmith's shop, there had
them put in irons. Poor devils ! I pitied them, for
they then had got into the hands of cowards, or of
a mob, which is always brave when there is no danger.
I remonstrated against the usage they gave, told
them the men were prisoners of war and that, as it
was impossible for them to escape, there was no use
of putting them in irons; that as to punishing them
there was no necessity of that, for they had received
punishment already in being made prisoners. The
cowards called me a tory and said I had nothing to do
with them, so I left the prisoners in the hands of
those brave Baltimoreans who had not at that time
one ship-of-war or privateer out on the whole Chesa-
peake Bay, when we New England men had hundreds
cruising against the common enemy.

1^3 1

CHAPTER VII

Makes two voyages to Saint Eustatius in the
Baltimore armed schooner Resolution; on

SECOND trip, when CAPTAIN, IS TAKEN BY THE

FRIGATE Santa MargarettA; prisoner the

FOURTH time AT KINGSTON, JAMAICA; HOSTILITIES
CEASING, HE REACHES NeW YoRK ON AN ENGLISH
CUTTER AND THENCE RETURNS HOME

IT seemed to me imprudent to trust myself again
down the bay trading, so I was obliged to sell my
part of the schooner; if that rascal Walen could
have taken me I should have been killed without mercy.
I accordingly stayed on shore awhile (part of the
years 1781 and 1782) until an opportunity should
offer for me to do better, and at last there was a
schooner fitting out for the West Indies, the captain
of which, boarding in the same house as I did, asked
me if I would go as his mate. I consented, not being
able to do better, and entered on board the schooner
Resolution (39), which mounted six guns. The cap-
tain was a miserable fellow, however, a Virginian, not
naturally brave though a great swearer, so that many
people would have been led to think he was a fighting
man if they had heard him talking. We set sail for
the island of Saint Eustatius,^ arrived safe, disposed

^ Saint Eustatius, West Indies, had been surrendered to the
English by the Dutch, February 3, 1781 ; toward the end of the

[84]

of our cargo of flour at twenty-five dollars per barrel
which cost in Baltimore nine dollars and a half, and
taking in salt at eighteen cents per pushel, sold it for
eight dollars in Edenton, North Carolina, into which
place we were chased by a Bermuda privateer, the
Jolly Bacchus.

The captain turning out to be no great things, the
owners discharged him and gave the command of the
schooner to me, and, loading up at Edenton with flour,
bacon, etc., I again proceeded on for Saint Eustatius.
The passage I meant to run through laid between An-
tigua and Saint Bartholomew, and early one Sunday
morning ( December i , 1 78 2 ^ ) , as we were approaching
the former island but not yet in sight, the man at the
helm told me he saw a sail to windward bearing down
on us. It was blowing very hard at the time and I had
the bonnet off my jib and foresail, two reefs out of the
mainsail, and was standing on a wind to the eastward,
as I thought I had not eastern enough. I soon per-
ceived the vessel approaching us and ordered all hands
to make sail, took the bonnet and bent it on the jib
and foresail, let out the reefs of the mainsail, and
clapped her away four points free. She sailed like a
bird, but in two or three hours the pursuing vessel came
up with us, firing, one after another, seven shots at
us, and at last got so close that I could see the buttons
on the men's coats. They then got ready a 6-pound
cannon from the quarter (deck) loaded with grape-
shot, and fired point-blank into us, cutting away our
jib-sheet blocks, forepeak tie, and other rigging for-
ward. This brought our schooner right into the wind,
so close to the ship that we were very near being run

year news reached Philadelphia that it had been taken, Novem-
ber 26, by the French under the Marquis de Bouille, governor
of Martinique.

2 Date taken from log-book of the Santa Margaretta in May,

1893.

down, whereupon we struck our colors, and an officer
and six men were put in charge. The vessel proved to
be the Santa Margaretta (40), a British 40-gun ship.
Captain Salter, a clever fellow who, treating me well
as a prisoner, carried me down to Port Royal, Jamaica.
Here I was put on shore without one farthing except
six guineas which I had secreted as button-moulds to
my coat. When I arrived at Kingston I got lodgings
at the sign of the "Gold Chain and Wooden Leg,"
which was the rendezvous of the ship's crew.

I stayed there a few weeks and then tried to make
my escape with five or six more American masters
and mates of vessels. Our plan was to take one of the
king's barges, then under repair, and run across to a
place called the Palisades, but unfortunately when we
were all prepared to carry out our enterprise the barge
was taken away. We went down the next day to recon-
noiter for another boat, but not finding one that would
suit us, relinquished our project.

As I was walking back to the house I accidentally
met the sailing-master of the Santa Margaretta, who
asked me if I wanted to go home. I told him I did
if I could get an opportunity. "Well," says he, "if
you have a mind to go by New York, I can procure
you a chance." "Agreed," says I, "if you will let me
take my bag with me." He went with me to my lodg-
ings, where I got my chest and then went on board
a British brig-of-war, commanded by Captain Nickols'^
and bound for New York. We arrived safe after
taking a Spanish prize in the Gulf Stream, running
from Havana to the Spanish Main. The prize was
loaded with wines, sweetmeats, etc. ; we only plundered
her of what we wanted and let her go.

On our arrival at New York the brig came to anchor
at a wharf near the shipyards, and Robertson, a mid-

^ Captain Henry Nicholls (41), of the 14-gun cutter Barracouta,
a name taken from the dreaded "devil-fish" of the West Indies.

CSS]

shlpman, and I took a walk down to Fly Market and
stopped into a porter-house to get a pint of porter.
There were several persons in the place sitting around
a stove, and next to me was an Irishman reading a
newspaper. I observed to the latter that, as soon as he
was done reading the paper, I would be glad to see
it. "By my soul, you are welcome to it," said he. The
first thing my eyes met was the account of a prize cap-
tured by the very same Captain Walen^ who had taken
me in the Chesapeake Bay with his galley. I forgot
where I was for a moment and observed to Robertson
that I believed I knew Captain Walen, and asked if
he did not command a large galley that rowed with
thirty-three oars. The Irishman, who actually belonged
to her, made answer that he believed I did know Cap-
tain Walen very well, and that he would be very glad
to see me. I told him that I had a brother who was
taken by him some time past in the Chesapeake Bay;
that I looked very much like my brother, but that I
was In the British service while he was a rebel. "By
my soul you are twin brothers then," said he, "for
I could swear that you are the man and that you and
two more retook the vessel after killing and wounding
some of our men." I think I heard that it was said
we had killed six of them, and it is not improbable
that they made such report, as they are fond of ex-
aggerating their accounts. I made out to get clear of
them and went down to the brig in company with
Robertson, where Captain Nickols paid me eight
dollars. As there was at this time a cartel ready to
carry home prisoners of war, I got on board and set out

* "Yesterday was sent in here two small schooners, taken in the
Chesapeake by the Victory j privateer, Captain Wallen." (Gaines'
N. Y. Gazette and Weekly Mercury, of Monday, March 31,

1783.)

"Same day (Sunday, March 30) arrived a small schooner, taken
in Chesapeake Bay by the Victory, privateer, Captain Wallen."
{Rivington's Gazette, New York, Wednesday, April 2, 1783.)

1:873

once more for New London, where I arrived safe and
went on to Boston^ (42).

^ The king's proclamation of February 14, for a cessation of arms,
was officially read at the City Hall in New York, April 8, 1783.

[88]

ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES

ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES

Note i, Page 3

The North Writing School was located at the cor-
ner of North Bennet Street and Love Lane, near
where now stands the Eliot School. John Green-
wood's great-grandfather, SamuelGreenwood, had been
one of a committee in March, 1711 or 171 2, for select-
ing a site and overseeing the building of it. At the
time in question John Tileston, subsequently called the
"venerable," though the boys, not quite so respectful,
used to give him the title of "old Johnny Tileston," was
master, with a salary, fixed May 15, 1764, at £100.
The third and fourth fingers of his right hand were
so contracted from the effects of a severe burn as to
form an admirable socket for his ferrule, or "hickory
whig of '76," as he called it, for which instrument of
torture it seems he had a great partiality. Years
after has John Greenwood pointed out to his son on
Boston streets the approaching form of his former
master, and then abruptly crossed over to the other
side of the causeway. He used to relate that many
a time had some hungry urchin slid from his seat in
school and, creeping stealthily along beneath the forms,
notified the fortunate possessor of a savory luncheon
of his presence by a sly pinch and a whispered "Hunks !
I smell cheese," when just as the levied tribute was
about to be paid, the quick eye of the master would
discover the delinquent, and "Come here, you tigera-

1:913

bus!" would summon him to the desk for condign
punishment. On a list of scholars, 176 1-5, we find
the name of Isaac Greenwood, John's elder brother.
Tlleston died in 1826, aged ninety-two years, and
from him Love Lane received its present appellation
of Tileston Street.

Note 2, Page 4

William H. Montague, Esq., of Boston, writing
July 14, 1859, to W. B. Trask, editor of the "New
England Historical and Genealogical Register," says:
"I was well acquainted with Dr. William Pitt Green-
wood from boyhood. Taking a walk with him on
Copp's Hill and vicinity on the 17th of June, the
anniversary of the battle of Bunker Hill — the year
I do not recollect; it was either 1847, '^ or '9 — in
company with Mr. Isaac Cazneau, an Octogenarian
who had lived in the neighborhood all his life, he
(Greenwood) pointed out his father's residence, at that
time (1775) on the east side of Salem Street, be-
tween Prince Street and Christ Church. He also
pointed out the spot, but a few rods from the house,
where a battalion of British troops were quartered,
and both he and Mr. Cazneau saw them march off
in the morning of June 17, 1775, as they said, 'in high
feather,' and saw some of them brought back wounded
in the afternoon. They both also remembered see-
ing Major Pitcairn carried through Charter Street
mortally wounded, though at the time they did not
know who he was; his remains were buried under
Christ Church."

The steeple of this church came down in a gale
of wind in October, 1804.

W. P. Greenwood, youngest brother of John Green-
wood, died May 10, 185 1, on the eighty-fifth anni-
versary of his birth.

1:923

Note 3, Page 4

The Boston Gazette of Monday, March 12, 1770,
says: "Mr. Samuel Maverick, a promising youth of
seventeen years of age, son of the widow Maverick,
and an apprentice to Mr. Isaac Greenwood, Ivory-
turner, mortally wounded; a ball went through his
belly and was cut out at his back. He died the next
morning." Mrs. Mary Maverick, who lived at the
corner of Union Street and Salt Lane, had married
a son of Mr. John Maverick, importer of lignum-
vits and other hard woods. (See Drake's "Boston,"
p. 781, etc.; Sumner's "East Boston," p. 171.)

Isaac Greenwood, Jr., the elder brother of John
(and future father of the late Judge John Green-
wood, of Brooklyn), was a witness of the massacre,
being then in his twelfth year. Attracted by the ring-
ing of bells, indicating a fire, Maverick and Green-
wood were proceeding along hand in hand when, in
King Street, Samuel left his companion and joined
in the popular tumult about some soldiers at the
custom-house. In the volley which ensued Maverick
fell just as he was throwing up his arms and shouting,

"Fire away, you d lobster-backs!" This epithet

was applied to the soldiers on account of their red
coats, but more than a century earlier. Sir Arthur
Hasebrig's cuirassiers, in the Parliamentary service,
were also known as "lobsters," from their iron breast-
plates. (See "Diary of Henry Teonge, Chaplain,
1675-79," London, 1825.)

Note 4, Page 4

Captain Martin Gay, a brass-founder of Boston
and one of the fire-wards in 1769, was one of the thir-
teen lieutenants of the Boston regiment in 1761 and
captain of a company in 1769. In 1770 he was lieu-
tenant of the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Com-

1:933

pany and captain in 1772. At this time the company's
uniform was blue coats, with lapels and yellow buttons,
buff underclothes, silk stockings, white linen spatter-
dashes, and gold-laced cocked hats; their fifers and
drummers were uniformed in white cloth coats
trimmed with blue lapels and white linings, white linen
waistcoats and breeches, and caps of white cloth with
gold binding. When Martin Gay was lieutenant of
the Boston Artillery Company, William Heath (after-
ward a major-general in the Continental army) was
the captain, having succeeded Major Adino Paddock.
Captain Gay went to Nova Scotia in March, 1776,
and in November, 1792, returned to Boston, where
he died, February 3, 1809, aged eighty-two. He had
a granddaughter, Mrs. Mary (Gay) Greenwood,
daughter of Samuel Gay, who lived in Nova Scotia.
Captain Gay's portrait is given in Robert's "History
of the Artillery Company," Vol. II.

Note 5, Page 5

Previous to the Revolution the only attempts to
use brick in Falmouth were in the houses of John
Butler on King Street and John Greenwood on the
south side of Middle Street. The latter, a three-story
wooden building with brick ends situated between
Captain Pearson's Lane and Fish Street (now Willow
and Silver streets), was commenced in October, 1774.
It escaped destruction when the town was burned by
the British, October 18, 1775, and was taken down,
1855-6, to make room for a large hotel erected by
the Hon. John M. Wood, previous to which event
several views were taken of the place. Meetings of
the Falmouth Lodge, established 1762, of which
Greenwood was a member, were held at times in the
house up to 1780. Mr. Greenwood sold out all his
real estate previous to November, 1784, after which

1:94]

nothing further is known of him. He was married
in Trinity Church, Boston, November 2, 1762, to
Mercy Clarke, who died, December 17, 1770, aged
twenty-seven years, and was interred in the south-
west end of the old East Cemetery, Portland, where
her husband's mother, Sarah (Clarke) Greenwood,
widow of Professor Isaac Greenwood, was buried
toward the close of May, 1776. A small mahogany
chest of drawers made by John Greenwood the young-
er while with his uncle at Falmouth is in the writer's
possession.

Note 6, Page 5

The third week following this event was a stirring
one in Falmouth. On Monday, May 8, Lieutenant-
Colonel Samuel Thompson, an ardent patriot, eager
to destroy the i6-gun cutter Canso, which lay off the
town of Falmouth, came down from Brunswick (some
thirty miles to the northeast) with about 150 men
from that place and Topsham. They carried a green-
topped spruce pole for a standard. The expedition
landed in the Bark Cove late in the afternoon, and the
men, concealing themselves in a pine wood back of
the town on the north and east slope of Munjoy's
Hill, had been able to seize and make prisoners of
Lieutenant Henry Mowat, the commander of the
cutter, his ship surgeon, and the Episcopal minister,
Mr. John Wiswall, while the latter were enjoying
their customary exercise on the east side of the Fal-
mouth peninsula. A message from the vessel soon
informed the inhabitants that their place would be
laid in ashes if the parties detained were not im-
mediately released. The Falmouth Cadets turned
out, and we may be sure the little fifer was with them.
Mowat was brought up to town by Thompson and his
men, where finally, after much discussion, he was
allowed, under parole and late in the evening, to re-

n9s]

turn to his vessel. Before morning Colonel Phinney's
minute-men and many of the militia from Gorham,
Scarborough, Cape Elizabeth, and Stroudwater, in all
600 or more, were in town, most of them willing to
carry out Thompson's scheme. Heavy guns, how-
ever, were lacking, and finally, better counsel prevail-
ing. Colonel Phinney got the militia in a day or two
to return homeward. After a while the Canso sailed
for Portsmouth, only to return in a few months, when,
with the sanction of Admiral Graves, Mowat carried
out his former threat and wantonly fired the town.
Lieutenant Greenwood's house was saved, but he met
with a loss of fi68. A contemporary cosmoramic
view of the burning is given in Fiske's "American
Revolution," Houghton, Mifflin & Company's illus-
trated edition, 1896, Vol. I, pp. 172-3.

Note 7, Page 9

By returns of January i, 1776, Hardy Pierce, of
Boston, was second lieutenant in Captain Ebenezer
Stevens's company of Colonel Knox's regiment of ar-
tillery. The following fall he was stationed at Fort
Lee (formerly Fort Constitution) on the Hudson,
and was killed, November 5, by the premature dis-
charge of a cannon while firing at the enemy's shipping.
("American Archives," 5th Series, Vol. Ill, p. 800.)

Note 8, Page 9

The Rev. Winwood Serjeant was, at the outbreak
of the Revolution, the Episcopal minister of Christ
Church, Cambridge, Massachusetts. He fled with his
family, at first to Kingston, New Hampshire, and
afterward to Newbury, whence in 1778 he returned
to Bristol, England. The house in which he lived at
the beginning of the troubles and which was ransacked

1:96]

MARY (I'ANS) greenwood,

Wife of Isaac Greenwood.

by the mob stood on the Observatory ground, nearly
opposite to the end of Linnaean Street, but has since
been removed to the other side of Garden Street.
(Hoppin's "History of Christ Church.")

Note 9, Page 10

Elizabeth Hale, second wife and widow of Colonel
Robert Hale, of Beverly, who had participated in the
siege of Louisburg under Sir William Pepperrell in
1745. She was the youngest daughter of the Hon.
Dr. John Clarke, of Boston, and was named for her
aunt, Elizabeth Clarke, second wife of the Rev. Dr.
Cotton Mather. Her sister Sarah married Professor
Isaac Greenwood of Harvard College. Later on
Mrs. Hale lived in Boston as a member of her
nephew's (Isaac Greenwood's) family, and died, Sep-
tember 23, 1795, aged eighty-nine years, leaving no
issue.

Note 10, Page ii

The marriage intentions of Isaac Greenwood, of
Boston, and Mary Pans were recorded January 21,
1757. She was born apparently in some Irish garrison
town in 1725, and died at Dedham, Massachusetts,
October 11, 1820, aged ninety-five years, having
survived her husband seventeen years. Mrs. Green-
wood was a staunch patriot, full of fire and wit, with
bright, sparkling eyes, a smiling countenance, and
a tiny figure. One of her two sisters married Robert
Woolsey, a merchant of Quebec; the other, Martha,
was the wife of Thomas Walker,^ a merchant of Bos-
ton who settled in Montreal soon after its surrender
to the English (September 8, 1760). Here in the
discharge of his duties as a justice of the peace Walker

^ See Appendix B.

1:973

aroused the enmity of some army officers, who broke
into his town house and brutally maltreated him. He
received no redress for this, however, even though
his case was laid before the king in person. Later
on his sympathies were all with the revolted colonies;
he corresponded with their committees and prepared
to aid them with a native Canadian force. Colonel
Arnold's hasty line from Ticonderoga and Ethan
Allen's premature movement against the city and his
sending messengers for help to Colonel Walker con-
firmed the suspicions of the authorities. His houses
in the city and at L'Assomption had been both closely
watched and his mail intercepted; with the proof ob-
tained his arrest was determined upon, and accordingly
one night his farm-house was attacked and fired by a
party of native militia, and he and his wife were
dragged down a ladder from the burning building,
hurried up to town, and imprisoned on a charge of
high treason. The colonel was finally released only
when the colonists took possession of Montreal.

Note ii, Page 13

The Americans did not cease working on their en-
trenchments until noon, and it was three o'clock be-
fore the British troops moved forward to the at-
tack. General Ward, who had reserved his own regi-
ment with those of Patterson and Gardner and a
part of Bridge's for the defense of Cambridge, de-
spatched the first three, late in the afternoon, to the
scene of action. Patterson's was stationed at Jack
Tuft's storehouse,- nearly down to the road leading
to Milk Row. There is record of but one soldier
of the regiment wounded on this occasion. (See Ap-
pendix A.)

^ Afterward on Sycamore Street.

1:983

Note 12, Page 13

John Patterson, son of Major John Patterson who
died from yellow fever at the siege of Havana, Septem-
ber 5, 1762, aged fifty-four years, was born in 1744
at New Britain, Connecticut. A graduate in 1762 of
Yale College, he taught school, practised law, and was
a justice of the peace in his native town until his re-
moval in 1774, with his father-in-law, Josiah Lee, to
Lenox, Massachusetts. He was a member of the Berk-
shire Congress, convened at Stockbridge, July 6, 1774,
and of the first and second Provisional Congresses of
Massachusetts. Two regiments of minute-men were
formed in Berkshire County at the time, one under
John Patterson, of Lenox, which was from the northern
and middle parts of the county, the other under John
Fellows, of Sheffield, from the southern part of the
county. News of the affair at Lexington having
reached the Berkshire Hills, Patterson's men were on
their way to Cambridge at sunrise on April 21, and
on May 27 he and his field officers received their com-
missions from the Provisional Congress for the 12th
Massachusetts Bay Regiment of Foot. After the
arrival of General Washington this regiment became
the 26th Regiment of Foot of the Army of the United
Colonies, and upon the reorganization of 1776 the
15th Regiment of Foot. February 21, 1777, Colonel
Patterson was appointed brigadier-general and at-
tached to the Northern Department. The command
of the 15th was given to Colonel Timothy Bigelow,
and on April 22 the State of Massachusetts appointed
Lieutenant-Colonel Joseph Vose as colonel, vice
Colonel Patterson, promoted. On September 19 a
portion of Patterson's brigade took active part in
the battle of Stillwater under General Gates, and was
present at the surrender of Burgoyne. During the
winter of 1777-8 it was encamped at Valley Forge

l99l

and participated, the following June, in the battle of
Monmouth. On September 29, 1780, Patterson was
one of the fourteen general officers composing the
court-martial at Tappan, New York, before which
Major Andre was arraigned. During the war Patter-
son was the first Master of a traveling lodge of free-
masons^ called the "Washington Lodge," which was
continued till the close of hostilities. Afterward, on
the outbreak of the Shays's Rebellion of 1786, he
headed a detachment of the Berkshire militia which
was called out. As one of the proprietors of the
Boston Company he settled, in 1790, at Whelney's
Point, in Union, Tioga County (afterward known as
Lisle, Broome County), in the State of New York;
was first judge of the Court of Common Pleas in
Tioga County, 1798, and of Broome County, 1806;
a member of Assembly, 1792-3; of the New York
Constitutional Convention of 1801; and a Represen-
tative in Congress, 1803-5. He died July 19, 1808,
aged sixty-four years, leaving two sons and several
daughters.

Note 13, Page 13

The Rev. Daniel Bliss, of Concord, Massachusetts,
who died in 1764, aged forty-nine years, was born in
Springfield, Hampden County, and left four sons and
several daughters, of whom the eldest, Phebe, married
the Rev. William Emerson, of Concord, and was grand-

^ By order of the R. W., William Burbeck, Esq., Master holding
under the authority of Scotland, all Masonic brethren (particularly
those of St. Andrew's Lodge, formerly of Boston) were notified in
the Essex Gazette, Salem, December 21, 1775, that the Feast of
St. John would be celebrated on Wednesday, December 27, at the
Free Masons Arms, Cambridge. A general attendance was recom-
mended. "Table to be elegantly furnished by two o'clock. Breth-
ren to bring their clothing."

William Burbeck was lieutenant-colonel of Knox's regiment of
Continental artillery.

mother of the late Ralph Waldo Emerson, of Boston.
Two of the sons, Daniel, a lawyer of Concord, who died
in 1806, aged sixty-six years, at Lincoln, near Frederic-
ton, New Brunswick, and Samuel, who died in 1803 at
St. George, New Brunswick, were loyalists. The young-
est son, Joseph, who had been a lieutenant in the
artillery company of Captain Winthrop Sargent,
Colonel John Crane's regiment, died at Haverhill,
New Hampshire, and his daughter, Louisa, widow of
the Hon. Arthur Livermore, of Holderness, Massa-
chusetts, corresponded with the writer in May, 1859,
at which time she was living in Brooklyn, New York.
It is, however, with the second son, Theodore Thomas
Bliss, born May 21, 1745, that we are now interested.
He appears to have settled in Boston as a shipwright
and was a member of Fire Engine No. 9 before 1768.
He was called to the council chamber on the night
of March 5, 1770, to give evidence as to Captain
Thomas Preston's (of the 29th Foot) "giving the
soldiers orders to fire on the inhabitants." Several
of the depositions taken after that occurrence speak
of young Bliss's interview with the captain just be-
fore the firing took place. The "New England His-
torical and Genealogical Register," Vol. XLII, p.
263, states that a Captain Theodore Bliss of the Ameri-
can army married Elizabeth Barrett, born January
24, 1747, and died May 29, 1783, eldest daughter
of Daniel and Elizabeth (Wadsworth) Barrett.

About May, 1775, Captain Bliss appears to have
raised, for the Continental service, a company of
men the better part of whom, according to a return
of October, 1775, were from Boston, as was he him-
self. The captain has been also styled as "from Brim-
field, Mass.," a small place some seventy miles south-
west of Boston and a few miles north of east from
Monson. From Monson, on the Chicopee River,

twenty miles east of Springfield, marched, April 19,
1775, the company of Captain Freeborn Moulton,
which remained on service thirteen days, and of which
company a "Theodorus Bliss" was one of the privates
("Archives," Secretary of State's Department, Bos-
ton) ; possibly the two names may be identical. We
read too that when, early in the spring of 1775, two
English officers, Captain William Browne, of the 5 2d,
and Ensign Henry De Birniere, of the loth, visited
Concord as spies for Governor Gage, they dined at
the house of Theodore's brother^ Daniel Bliss, who,
on their remarking that the people would not fight,
asserted that "he knew better, and pointing to his
brother, then passing in sight of the house, replied,
'There goes a man who will fight you in blood up to
your knees.' "

Captain Bliss was attached to Colonel Patterson's
regiment just before the battle of Bunker Hill, and
the history of his company until the termination of
the men's second enlistment in December, 1776, is
contained in this memoir. That part of the company
which with the rest of the detachment under Major
Sherburne formed the relief for Major Butterfield
and the garrison at the Cedars in Canada, surrendered
May 20, 1776, to Captain Forster^ of the British
army. An exchange of prisoners was agreed to one
week later by Forster and General Arnold, and
four American captains were sent to Quebec as hos-
tages for its safe performance; these were Captains
Ebenezer Sullivan, of Scammon's Massachusetts regi-
ment, Theodore T. Bliss, of Patterson's Massa-
chusetts regiment, John Stevens, of Burrall's Connecti-
cut regiment, and Ebenezer Green, of Bedel's New
Hampshire Rangers. Sherburne's and Sullivan's ac-
counts of the affair will be found in Force's "Ameri-

^ Harper's Magazine, Yol. L, p. 780, December, 1874-May, 1875.
^ See Note 22.

[102;]

can Archives," 4th Series, Vol. VI, and In 5th Series,
Vol. I, p. 1 167, Is given a letter from Captain Bliss
to his brother-in-law, the Rev. William Emerson, dated
Montreal, August 4, 1776. Sullivan was exchanged
In 1778, Stevens In February, 1782, and Green was on
parole to 1779. Bliss, released on parole, returned
to Philadelphia by water and reached the American
camp In the vicinity of Trenton, New Jersey, just after
the battle at that place (December, 1776).

He enlisted January i, 1777, as captain of Company
7, In Colonel John Lamb's 2d Regiment of Artillery,
New York Line, and was probably the one captain of
artillery who, according to Heath's "Memoirs," was
wounded June 28, 1778, at Monmouth. The account
that he was a prisoner and exchanged In December
is erroneous. General Heath, writing to Generals
RIedesel and Hamilton, October 28, 1778, from head-
quarters, Boston, states that the British troops, under
the Saratoga Convention, were to leave for Virginia
In a few days, and that as they were so desirous that
Captain Richard Masters of the 24th should go to
New York with a report for Sir H. Clinton, he was
willing, provided he should first go to General Wash-
ington's headquarters accompanied by Captain Bliss
and paying the latter's expenses. The despatches
were stopped at headquarters and forwarded thence
by Washington, who Incidentally consented that Mas-
ters could be exchanged for Bliss. This, however,
was not effected, as Bliss subsequently attended Major-
General William Phillips to Virginia, the latter writ-
ing February 28, 1779, from Fredericksburg to Clin-
ton, begging the captain's exchange as a particular
favor.

It was only a few days before this that Washing-
ton had Informed the British commander of the re-
cent resolve passed by Congress that officers who had
broken their parole should be returned to the enemy.

In May Bliss was ordered to New York, and the
Massachusetts House of Representatives, upon his
petition, granted him a certain sum and "thirty pounds
a month to be paid to his wife during his detention
in the hands of the enemy, for the better support of
herself and family," all such sums to be charged to the
United States. The following month, upon the peti-
tion of several officers of Colonel Lamb's Regiment
of Artillery, "praying that they may rank the same as
if in one of the fifteen battalions raised by the State of
Massachusetts," the same was granted only in the case
of "Theodore Bliss, late a captain in Colonel Patterson's
regiment," He was evidently soon released and re-
turned to Boston on parole, where we read of a pay-
ment of fi200 made to him in July, 1780, by the
Town Treasurer for one of the eleven horses pur-
chased by Captain Fellows for use of the Continental
army.

The following notice appeared in the Continental
Journal under date of Boston, June 28, 1781: "I
take this method to inform the public that I despise
the scandalous report and likewise the ridiculous au-
thor of the unjust aspersion thrown on my character
in my absence; I have always most strictly adhered to
my parole and ever shall 'til I am regularly exchanged;
and as I am not answerable for my conduct to any
but my superior officers, and never went to York without
proper passports, if at any time such as are pleased to
will call upon me, they shall have a satisfactory answer
from their humble Servant, Theodore Bliss, Captain
Artillery."

In August, 1782, he was permitted a license as inn-
holder at his house in Corn Court, and on June 25,
1789, was married by the Rev. Samuel Parker to his
second wife, Huldah Delano, and was still on the town
tax-list in 1790. He had several daughters, one of
whom married, January i, 1797, Captain William

[;io4 3

Cunningham. Captain Bliss died, intestate, at Cam-
bridge, September i, 1802, aged fifty-eight years.

Note 14, Page 14

Greenwood subsequently describes the works on
Prospect Hill more particularly. Patterson's regi-
ment, however, after the battle was stationed at Fort
No. 3, which served as a connecting link between the
works on Prospect Hill to the northwest and the Cam-
bridge Lines, or No. 2, which extended southwesterly
from the point where Broadway crosses the top of
Dana (or Butler's) Hill to Fort No. i on the Charles
River. Fort No. 3, a little outside of Cambridge
bounds, was just south of the main road between Cam-
bridge and Charlestown (Washington Street, Somer-
ville), and opposite the point where it is entered from
the north by the old Charleston Lane or Milk Row
Road (now Milk Street, Somerville). This was
doubtless the precise spot (Jack Tuft's storehouse)
that the regiment had occupied during the battle of
Bunker Hill. (Page's "History of Cambridge,"
etc.) After July 22, 1775, the American army was
divided into three grand divisions. The central divi-
sion and reserve at Cambridge was commanded by
Major-General Israel Putnam, and of this division
the first brigade, under Brigadier-General William
Heath and encamped at Prospect Hill and vicinity,
consisted of the six Massachusetts regiments of Patter-
son at Fort No. 3, Scammon at Fort No. i, Prescott
at Sewall's Point, Heath at Fort No. 2 (in place of
General Ward), Gerrish at Chelsea, Maiden, etc., and
Colonel Phinney. The other brigade was composed
of the regiments of Putnam, Glover, Frye, Bridge,
Sergeant, and Woodbridge. In the absence of a
national ensign there floated over them, soon after,
the crimson standard of "Old Put," bearing the
emblems and motto of his native colony.

Note 15, Page 14

Some reminiscences of John Greenwood's elder and
youngest brothers, Isaac and William Pitt, have
already been given In Notes 2 and 3. The former,
Isaac Greenwood, Jr., who in 1775 advertises "ladies'
umbrellas" for sale at Salem, also prepared an in-
teresting memoir of his own personal adventures
during the War of Independence, but his eldest son,
the late Hon. John Greenwood, of Brooklyn, New
York, wrote me in May, 1859, saying: "I regret the
memoir or journal to which you refer has been mislaid
or abstracted. I have looked for it several times in
vain." Subsequently I found In my library some num-
bers of a New York magazine entitled the Literary
Companion, wherein, in August, 1821, had been
published an extract from the journal, signed with
the initials W. L. G. My late father Immediately
recognized the article as an incident of his uncle's life
which he had often heard related, and the initials as
those of a cousin, William Langley Greenwood. The
time Indicated was the winter of 178 1-2. The writer
had received In some engagement a severe saber cut
over the head from which he suffered throughout his
whole life, and the account presents an anachronism
for which due allowance must be made.

"I entered, at New London, on board the brig New
Broom, a vessel mounting sixteen guns and commanded
by one Bishop, and sailed thence on a cruise among the
West India Islands. After being out about five weeks
the captain became delirious, and In a few days after,
owing to the misconduct of the first lieutenant, we
were captured by a British sloop-of-war and carried
into St. John's, Antigua, where we were all put on
board a prison-ship which lay In a cove on one side
of the harbor where the heat was so severe as to be
almost Insupportable. We were allowed here but

barely enough to maintain nature, and the water they
gave us was taken out of a pond a little back of the
town, in which the cattle and negroes commingled
every sort of impurity, and which was rendered on
this account so nauseous that it was impossible to drink
it without holding the nostrils.

"I soon found that life was to be supported but a
short time here, and set myself, therefore, about con-
triving some way to effect my escape from this float-
ing place of misery and torment. The doctor came
on board every morning to examine the sick, and three
negro sextons every night to bury the dead.

"Early one morning I swallowed tobacco-juice and
was so sick by the time the doctor came that I obtained
without difficulty a permit from him to go on shore
to the hospital. I was soon ready to disembark, for
I had previously been robbed of everything except
what I had on. After arriving at the hospital I was
conducted into a long room where lay more than two
hundred of the most miserable objects imaginable,
covered with rags and vermin. I threw myself down
on a bunk, and after suffering extremely for some
time from the effects of the tobacco, went to sleep, but
was soon waked by a man nurse, who told me that
there was a physic for me and immediately went off
to another. I contrived, unperceived, to throw my
dose out of the window, and was not again disturbed
except during the following night, when I was waked
several times by the carrying out of the dead. The
sickness occasioned by the tobacco having now ceased,
it was still necessary to keep up the deception, and
accordingly, the next morning, I feigned lameness.
The doctor told me that my fever had settled in my
legs and said that I must walk about the yard as
much as I could. I was extremely rejoiced at this good
advice and lost no time in following it, hobbling off
to a row of small buildings which were detached from

CIO? 3

the hospital where I smelt the reviving flavor of soup,
and soon after, upon a bell's ringing, I experienced
the indescribable joy of partaking of a bowlful of it,
which was served out to those of the sick who could eat.

"Farther on than this there was another small house,
separate from the others, where I observed the nurses
and cooks to be coming in and going out. I limped
up to this place, stopped in front of the house, and,
wearing a very doleful look, chanced to catch the at-
tention of the steward who lived there. 'Come in
here, you Yankee dog,' says he, 'I like the looks of
you.' I accordingly went in and sat down. He in-
quired my name, birth, etc., and we very soon be-
came familiar. Our conversation was interrupted by
his being called away, but he gave me a general invita-
tion to call and see him, and I called the next day.
Although on this occasion he was as sociable as he had
been the day before, I observed a melancholy to be
cast over his countenance, and plainly perceived that
there was something that was to him a source of
grief. From the interest which he had taken in my
situation I could not but sympathize in his affliction,
and begged him, therefore, to disclose to me the cause
of it.

" 'I can,' says he, 'have no apprehension from
you. I am an American; my father is a refugee and is
now in Halifax. The pay I get here don't half support
me and I am therefore involved in debt; besides all,
I am the father of a child which I must provide for or
go to prison. I have not the means to do so, so you
can perceive how unfortunate my position is. There
is no other way for me to avoid my difficulties but by
leaving the island in some way or other.'

"I begged him to endeavor to take me with him,
which he promised to do.

" 'There is a friend of mine. Captain King,' said he,
'who lives in town, and if you are able to walk I will

lend you some clothes and we will go to-morrow and
see him,'

" 'You will see,' rejoined I, 'whether I am able or
not to walk, after I get out of the yard.'

"The next day, after he had pledged himself to
the sentinel for my safe return, we went together to
Captain King's. The latter had been formerly a
British naval officer, but from disaflfection or for some
other reason had left the service. To him the steward
revealed his situation and cast himself upon his gen-
erosity. He told the steward to call and dine with
him the next day, and bring with him one or two more
from among the prisoners who were desirous of escap-
ing, and that he would hit upon a plan to assist us.

"We accordingly went the next day and took with
us an American prisoner who was employed as a nurse
in the hospital and who, in the habit of a sailor,
carried the steward's clothes. We received a hearty
welcome, dined and drank plentifully of Captain King's
wine. After dinner he asked me If I understood man-
aging a boat and knew the situation of the islands.
Upon my replying In the affirmative he bid me come
up-stairs with him and, on entering the chamber, told
me to divest myself completely.

" 'What,' asked I, 'are you going to do with me?'

" 'I am going,' said he, 'to metamorphose you into

a British officer of the navy; and d n you,' he

added, 'don't flinch.'

"I was accordingly furnished by him with a suit of
his former uniform clothes (a lieutenant's), and
powdered Inside and out. He gave me also a loaded
pistol and one to the steward, and put Into my hand
a blank letter, superscribed to one Major Thomas
who was navy-agent.

" 'Go down to King's Wharf,' said he, ' you and the
steward walking together and the sailor behind you,
and there agree with one of the drogers (or packet-

1:1093

boats) to take you on board the Daphne frigate,
which lies in St. John's Road. When you have passed
the fort and he hauls his wind to stand for the frigate,
you must, taking the letter out of your pocket, feign
great surprise and exclaim that you have neglected to
deliver it to Major Thomas. The captain of the boat
will tell you directly (for they all know him) that he
is not in town but has gone down to his estate at Five
Islands on the west coast. You must then agree with
him to carry you there, for you must see him as the
vessel can't go to sea without bread. After you arrive
abreast of Five Islands, your escape must depend
upon yourselves. You must take possession of the
vessel and carry her into Montserrat or Saint Chris-
topher's,*^ of both which islands the French are now
in possession, and then you are safe.'

"We showered many blessings upon the captain and,
bidding him farewell, followed the directions he had
given us. All, however, had like to have been de-
tected, in which case we must have been either hung
or shot. Being under the effects of the wine and also
much elated with my new rigging, I made an unusual
blustering on the wharf, where we were surrounded
by real navy officers. Some of them observed that I

made a d d noise! 'I think so,' says another; 'who

the devil is he?' But while they were thus comment-
ing the captain of the packet-boat pushed off and we
got clear of them.

"The sloop was manned with five stout negroes and
a white captain. We succeeded in obtaining posses-
sion of her and arrived the next day at Montserrat,
which was thirty miles to the southwest, where we re-
ported ourselves to the commanding officer and re-

•^ St. Kitt's was taken on the 12th and Montserrat on the 22d of
February, 1782. Hon. Matthew Fortescue was appointed captain,
May 24, 1782, of the Daphne, twenty guns, and was on the home
service in January, 1783.

["°3

malned a few days. Thence we sailed, under con-
voy of a French armed schooner (a national vessel)
for Guadeloupe, where we soon arrived and whence
we set out for the United States in an American
ship. This was not, however, without having first
suffered much from the treachery of the French cap-
tain, who, on his arrival at Basseterre on this island,
the port to which we were bound, went on shore and
reported us as an English prize and had us conveyed
by a guard of soldiers to jail. On our way thither
the street was illuminated and the soldiers, exulting,
brutally pricked us with their bayonets. We were
there confined, but on the next day the perfidy of the
captain was brought to light through the exertions of
a friend of the steward's, to whom the latter contrived
to make known his situation, and who went to the gov-
ernor and disclosed the whole transaction. A court
of inquiry was held; we were released and the French
captain committed for a trial by court-martial."

As to Captain Bishop of New London, who com-
manded the Neiv Broom and to whom reference is
made at the commencement of the account, I find by
the Connecticut Gazette, published in New London,
that his name was Israel Bishop. The first advertise-
ment relative to the privateer-brigantine New Broom
is dated Wethersfield, July 25, 1778, at which time
she was lying in the Connecticut River, and was to
sail from New London, toward September, on a
cruise off Sandy Hook, etc. She was taken in Boston
Bay and brought into New York, October 27, by the
British sloop-of-war Ariel, 20, Captain Thomas
Mackenzie. Bishop was probably soon exchanged,
and on Monday, October 8, 1 781, it is stated that he
reached New London, having arrived two days before
in his brig Betsey at Newport in thirty-one days from
Granada, West Indies. From this we gather that
in the foregoing extract two events of Isaac Green-

C'"3

wood's life are confounded. We see that the New
Broom, Bishop, was captured and taken into New
York in October, 1778, and we know that Greenwood
was at one time confined as a prisoner in the old Crown
(Liberty) Street sugar-house, near the Middle Dutch
Church. He escaped from that place by a passage-
way dug beneath the walls, across the street, into
the cellar of a house opposite; thence, making his way
by night to the shore, he swam off to a sloop, rested
on the deck till near daylight, and again taking to the
water, reached the opposite banks near Hoboken, and
pushed on to Hackensack. On the occasion of his
being carried a prisoner to Antigua, though he may
have been with his old captain, Israel Bishop, it was
evidently not in the privateer New Broom. Possibly it
was in the Brutus, of Salem, Captain W. Coles, as his
son, the late Judge John Greenwood, presented to the
Long Island Historical Society in 1863 the rough,
serviceable cutlass of his father, with its wooden
handle, iron guard, black leather sheath, and broad
belt, and inscribed on the inside with the name of "the
ship Brutus."

After the war Isaac Greenwood lived in Providence,
Rhode Island, until his removal in 18 10 to New York,
where he died, October 21, 1829, aged seventy-one
years. His remains lie in Greenwood Cemetery, be-
neath a slab suitably inscribed.

Note 16, Page 20

November 9, 1775, Lieutenant-Colonel George
Clark, of the 43d Foot, landed under cover of the
Cerberus, 36, Captain Chads, on Lechmere's Point
(Phipp's farm), which at high water was an island.
Clark had with him six companies of light infantry
and a hundred grenadiers, about 600 men in all. He
was driven off with the loss of two men, and carried
away ten cows belonging to Mr. Ireland. The Ameri-

1:1.23

cans, who were exposed the whole time to a warm
fire from the forts in Charlestown and one in Boston,
also lost two men by grape from the Cerberus. The
repulsing party consisted of Colonel Thompson's regi-
ment of riflemen and parts of Woodbridge's and Pat-
terson's regiments. Major Mifflin (afterward first
governor of the State of Pennsylvania) particularly
distinguished himself at the time. Washington in his
report says: "The alacrity of the riflemen and officers
upon the occasion did them honor, to which Colonel
Patterson's regiment and some others were equally en-
titled."

Heath's "Memoirs" and Silliman's "Journal" both
mention the fortifying of Lechmere's Point. A new
causeway connecting it with Patterson's post at Fort
No. 3 was begun December 12, 1775, and five days
later, by order of General Putnam, 300 men broke
ground on top of the hill at the point, about half
a mile from the shipping. These defenses, notwith-
standing severe cannonading at times, were finished
and mounted, February 25, with some heavy pieces.

Note 17, Page 21

A similar incident is mentioned in a letter of July
12, 1775 (Allison's "Remembrances," 1775), and
Frothingham, in his "Siege of Boston," p. 213, refers
to the same. Rament's name is given on the regimental
return as Shubael Raymond, of Boston; he is un-
doubtedly the same party referred to in General
Orders at Ticonderoga, November 5, 1776. Firing
of small arms was forbidden in General Orders of
July 4 and 26, 1775.

Note 18, Page 22

At this point in the memoir mention might have
been made of the fact that on September 13, 1775,
men were drafted out of the different regiments for

t:>'33

Arnold's expedition up the Kennebec River and
through the wilderness to Quebec. From Patterson's
regiment went twenty-five men, a sergeant, a corporal,
and a drum, Captain Thomas Williams, of Stock-
bridge, Captain William Goodrich, of Great Barring-
ton, Massachusetts, and First Lieutenant John Cums-
ton (or Comston), of Saco, District of Maine.
Cumston and three privates were from Captain T.
T. Bliss's company. Both Captain Goodrich and Lieu-
tenant Cumston were taken in the attack upon Que-
bec toward the close of the year, and remaining
prisoners till their exchange, May i8, 1776, arrived
in a transport, September 24, at Elizabeth, New Jersey.
Captain Thomas Williams returned from the mouth
of the Dead River on October 25 with Lieutenant-
Colonel R. Enos.

Note 19, Page 23

The party of 130 from General Heath's and Gen-
eral Frye's brigades, which, on January 8, 1776, burned
the few remaining houses left standing in Charlestown,
was composed of men from Colonel John Greaton's
24th Regiment and Colonel John Patterson's 15th
Regiment, commanded by Major Thomas Knowlton.
It was divided between Majors Richard Carey and
David Henly, with orders for the former to first fire
the houses most distant from the dam. Through some
error, however, Henly, of Heath's brigade, executed
his injunctions first. Of the enemy one man was killed
and five taken prisoners. General Putnam and his
staff watched the manoeuver from Cobble Hill, and the
party was thanked next day in General Orders. Other
ofl^icers interested were Captain Edward P. Williams,
First Lieutenant Samuel Foster, and Ensign Thomas
Cheney; Captain Jacob Goold and First Lieutenant
Elijah Shaw from Greaton's regiment; Captain Wil-

liam Wyman, First Lieutenant William A. Patterson
(of Captain Noble's company), and Second Lieutenant
Joshua Trafton (or Traston) from Patterson's regi-
ment.

Note 20, Page 25

The American forces left Boston for New York
as follows:

On Friday, March 15, 1776, Brigadier-General
William Heath was ordered to set out with some
artillery and the five regiments of Patterson, Greaton,
Stark, Bond, and Webb. They reached New Lon-
don on the 26th, sailed the next day, and on Satur-
day the 30th at noon marched into New York. Heath
resigned the chief command, April 3, to General Put-
nam, who had then arrived. The brigade of Major-
General John Sullivan, which had left Boston March
27, reached New York April 10 with six regiments
and two companies with light artillery, and by the 14th
there were eleven regiments present in the city, with
five more on Long Island and one, Colonel Patter-
son's, on Staten Island. On April i Brigadier-Gen-
eral Greene, with five more regiments and a detach-
ment of artillery, was ordered to set out from Bos-
ton, and on the 4th the commander-in-chief left the
town with the last division of five regiments and the
balance of the artillery under Brigadier-General
Joseph Spencer. Washington arrived in New York
on the 13th and his lady on the 17th.

On April 15 four regiments under Brigadier-Gen-
eral William Thompson were ordered from New
York to Canada by way of the lakes. These regi-
ments were the 8th, Colonel Enoch Poor; the 15th,
Colonel John Patterson; the 24th, Colonel John Grea-
ton, and the 25th, Colonel William Bond. A return
of them, dated four days later, is given in "Ameri-
can Archives," 4th Series, Vol. V, p. 986. Sailing

from the city on Sunday the 21st, the party reached
Albany on the 26th, and finally arrived, May 13, at
Chambly, to the north of St. Johns.

Note 21, Page 25

A brief summary of the various changes in the com-
mand which took place toward the close of the Cana-
dian campaign may not be here out of place. It was
at first designed that Major-General Charles Lee
should succeed General Montgomery, who had fallen
before Quebec, December 31, 1775, but when the
former was placed over the Southern Department,
Brigadier-General John Thomas, then before Boston,
was raised to the rank of major-general and appointed
to take active command of the Continental forces at
the north, since ill health prevented General Schuyler
from so doing. Meanwhile leadership of the be-
sieging army at Quebec was assumed by Arnold until
the arrival, on April i, of his superior oflicer,
Brigadier-General David Wooster, who, after having
remained inactive during the winter at Montreal, had
now left Colonel Moses Hazen, of the 2d Canadian
Regiment or "Congress' Own," in charge there. A
fall of his horse having disabled his wounded leg,
Arnold quitted the camp before Quebec on Friday,
April 12, and withdrew to Montreal, where, taking
command, he sent Hazen down to St. Johns, Cham-
bly, etc. General Wooster presently gave place to
Major-General John Thomas, who, having reached
Montreal April 26, arrived before Quebec five days
later. As the English were now rapidly advancing
up the river and were receiving and expecting power-
ful reinforcements, General Thomas retreated, May
5, to Point Deschambault, and afterward to the mouth
of the Sorel. He died at Chambly from smallpox,
June 2, 1776.

The congressional commissioners, Franklin, Chase,
and Carroll, arrived on April 29 at Montreal and
lodged at the house of Thomas Walker. As soon
as news reached the city that British men-of-war were
down the river below Quebec, Franklin and the Rev.
John Carroll started. May 11, 1776, by boat for Fort
George, whence General Schuyler wrote to Congress
on the 28th that they had left for Albany "on my
chariot, which they are to take soon to New York."
Arnold likewise left Montreal on May 11 to confer
with General Thomas at Sorel, and by the advice
of the commissioners Colonel Patterson was ordered
to advance from St. Johns, twenty-seven miles dis-
tant, and occupy the city with his regiment as a garri-
son. On May 15 Arnold wrote the remaining com-
missioner, Samuel Chase, of Maryland, "I am glad
Patterson has been sent for; I believe he will give
satisfaction"; and again, three days later, "I think it
advisable to innoculate Colonel Patterson's regiment
at Montreal." Patterson arrived on the 15th, his men
taking the place of Colonel James Clinton's 3d New
York (Ulster County) Militia, whose time was out.
The next day, being in command at Montreal, Patter-
son despatched to the Cedars the relief party alluded
to in the memoir. Colonel Greaton's regiment was
now ordered to advance from Sorel for the support
of the garrison, and it remained in the city till May
31, when Sullivan's brigade began to arrive. This
latter officer, through representations of the commis-
sioners, had been appointed to succeed General
Thomas in place of General Wooster, recalled. Pat-
terson's and Reed's regiments were in Montreal on
June 15 when Arnold abandoned the city, at which time
also General Sullivan retreated from his position at
the mouth of the Sorel toward St. Johns.

Previous to this retreat General Sullivan had
planned the battle of Three Rivers, and despatched

i:"73

Brigadier-General William Thompson to attack the
enemy at that point. The expedition failed, and
Thompson, Colonel William Irvine, and a portion of
his Pennsylvania regiment were taken prisoners.
Later, in June, the chief command of the Northern
Army was conferred upon Major-General Horatio
Gates, and Sullivan returned to New York and was
taken prisoner at the battle of Long Island, August
27 following.

Note 22, Page 26

Colonel Timothy Bedel, of the New Hampshire
Rangers, who commanded at the Cedars, hearing that
Captain George Forster^ was advancing against him
from the mouth of the Oswegatchie (now Ogdens-
burg), under the pretense of going to Montreal for
reinforcements, left the garrison in command of Ma-
jor Isaac Butterfield, "an officer quite as void of
courage as his superior." Forster had with him forty
regulars of the 8th (or King's) Regiment, a hundred
Canadians and 500 Indians under Brant, and "no
artillery," says the English account. On the morning
of Sunday, May 19, he began heavy fire of musketry,
and Butterfield quietly surrendered without any show
of resistance. The two pieces of field artillery (brass
6-pounders) with which the garrison was provided
thus fell into the hands of the enemy and were the
cannon alluded to in the memoir.

Colonel Patterson had meanwhile despatched (May
16) the relief party from his own regiment at
Montreal, and Major Sherburne, who had just arrived
in the city, offering to command the same, received
therefore the thanks of the congressional commis-
sioners, Chase and Carroll. The major marched, but
could not find boats to cross till Saturday the i8th.

■^ In November, 1776, major of the 21st or Royal North British
Fusiliers.

He recrossed, however, that same evening, being fear-
ful of an attack, since Captain Bliss, while looking for
teams, had been taken prisoner only two miles from
the landing-place by some savages and Canadians.
On the following day, owing to the weather, only one
boat crossed the river, but Captain Sullivan, who was
in it, went to the priest's house where Bliss was con-
fined and procured his release. On the 20th the whole
party again crossed and Sherburne, leaving a guard
of forty men, marched with about a hundred men
for the Cedars, nine miles distant. After proceeding
some five miles he fell into the ambuscade as described
by Greenwood, toward five o'clock in the evening. A
fierce battle raged for an hour and a half, when the
Indians, having completely encircled them, rushed
down upon the little band, disarmed them, and
butchered about twenty, stripping the remainder and
driving them in triumph to the fort. The Americans
lost altogether fifty-eight and the enemy twenty-two,
among whom was a Seneca brave. Captain John Mc-
Kinstry's company had particularly distinguished it-
self, and that oflScer the Indians, from revenge, had
determined to torture. Brant interposed, however,
and with some English officers purchased an ox which
was roasted instead of the prisoner. Some accounts
say that the captain was only released from the stake
when the great chief observed him making the masonic
sign of distress.

On the succeeding day, according to Stedman's "His-
tory of the War," Forster advanced to Vaudreuil,
six miles north of the Cedars, and on the 24th,
having received intelligence that the enemy, under
Colonel Arnold, had posted themselves at La Chine,
nine miles from Montreal, he marched to attempt their
dislodgment. He had advanced to within three miles
of the place when, learning the number of the Ameri-
cans, he retreated to Vaudreuil. Arnold with 700

i:i'93

men came up the river on Sunday the 26th to attack
him, but on the succeeding day a cartel was agreed
upon and signed for the exchange of two majors (Sher-
burne and Butterfield), nine captains, twenty sub-
alterns and 443 soldiers. It was agreed that four
American captains should be sent to Quebec as hostages
and remain there until the prisoners were exchanged;
these were Captains Ebenezer Sullivan and Theodore
T. Bliss of Sherburne's party, and Captains John
Stevens and Ebenezer Green of Major Butterfield's
party.

Note 23, Page 26

On May 3, 1775, it was voted by the Rhode Island
Assembly that a brigade of three regiments, 1500
men, be raised and enlisted to December, as part of
an army of observation for the defense of the
colony, and Nathanael Greene, Jr., was appointed
brigadier-general. The three regiments were officered
as follows :

1. Colonel Daniel Hitchcock; Lieutenant-Colonel
Ezekiel Cornell; Major Israel Agnell; for
Providence County; eight companies.

2. Colonel James Mitchell Varnum; Lieutenant-
Colonel James Babcock; Major Christopher
Green; for King's County and Kent; eight com-
panies.

3. Colonel Thomas Church; Lieutenant-Colonel
William Turner Miller; Major John Forrester,
whose place was soon taken by Major Henry
Sherburne; for Newport and Bristol counties;
seven companies and one company of artillery,
Captain (later Major) John Crane.

A small force of not more than 250 men was soon
despatched en route toward Boston, and encamped on
Jamaica Plains, some little distance southwest of Rox-

[120]

bury. They were under command of Lieutenant-Colo-
nel William T. Miller of the 3d Regiment. General
Greene arrived on Saturday, May 27, and the next day
Colonel Hitchcock and Lieutenant-Colonel Cornell,
Major Sherburne coming into camp toward evening.
Soon after other companies, including the train of
artillery with four field-pieces, arrived.*^ June 17 some
of the Rhode Island men participated in the battle
of Bunker Hill, but the most of them were drawn out
under arms as a reserve. Eleven days later the As-
sembly voted that the Rhode Island troops be put
under the command of the general of the combined
army, and when Washington arrived, July 3, one
Rhode Island regiment and the New Hampshire
troops occupied the entrenchments thrown up on
Prospect Hill, and the other Rhode Island regiments
were at Sewall's farm. After July 22 the three Rhode
Island regiments, with four Massachusetts regiments,
composed the brigade, under Brigadier-General
Greene, which was part of the left wing, or Second
Division, of the army commanded by Major-General
Lee,

At a Council of General Officers held at Cambridge,
November 2, 1775, for choosing the colonels, lieu-
tenant-colonels, and majors for the new army (appoint-
ments to take effect after January i, 1776), Major
Henry Sherburne was assigned to Colonel John Patter-
son's 15th (Massachusetts) Regiment. On November
28 he was a member of the Court of Inquiry at Cam-
bridge for examining into the conduct of Lieutenant-
Colonel Roger Enos, who had returned from Colonel
Arnold's expedition to Quebec.

Henry Sherburne, of Newport, Rhode Island (son

* Church, Miller, and Sherburne and Adjutants Bradford and
Box were quartered in the Bradford House, Roxbury. ("New
England Historical and Genealogical Register," Vol. XI, pp. 136-
140.)

probably of Colonel BenjamlnSherburne of that place),
a graduate in 1759 of the College of New Jersey, was
about thirty-five years of age when appointed, in 1775,
major of the 3d Rhode Island Regiment. Subsequently,
as will be seen from the memoir, he reached New York,
March 30, 1776, as major of Colonel John Patterson's
15th (Massachusetts) Regiment, and on April 4 was
despatched to Philadelphia by General Putnam with a
letter to President Hancock applying for cash on ac-
count of the Continental forces then in the city. Con-
gress voted on the 9th that $200,000 be sent on by
Major Sherburne. Detained thus on official business,
Sherburne did not reach Montreal until his regiment
was located there, and he immediately offered his serv-
ices to take command of the relief party about to be de-
spatched (May 16) to the Cedars. His account of this
affair can be seen in the "American Archives," 4th
Series, Vol. VI, p. 598, dated New York, June 18,
when he was on his way to lay the whole unhappy
case before Congress. He also carried a letter from
General Arnold, dated Montreal, June 2, addressed
to the congressional commissioners. Chase and Car-
roll, on their way from Canada to Philadelphia
( "American Archives," 5th Series, Vol. I, p. 165, etc. ) .
On July 15 Congress allowed him fifty-five dollars for
his expenses since leaving Canada (June 6), with fur-
ther allowance of eight days' expenses to join his regi-
ment at Ticonderoga. About the middle of November
the regiment was ordered to proceed southward as soon
as boats could be procured on Lake George and to join
General Washington's forces. Sherburne's letter to
Major-General Gates while en route, dated Esopus,
December 12, is in "American Archives," 5th Series,
Vol. Ill, p. 1 192.

On October 28, 1776, the Rhode Island Assembly
resolved that two battalions be immediately raised by
the State, agreeable to requisition of the Continental

[122]

Congress, and appointed to the First Battalion Colonel
James M. Varnum (who declined), Lieutenant-Colonel
Adam Comstock (who died in Saratoga County, New
York, April lo, 1819, aged eighty years), and Major
Henry Sherburne ; David Hitchcock was appointed
colonel of the Second Battalion, Sherburne had been
recommended by General Washington among other
officers for the new establishment, in a letter to Gov-
ernor Cook dated from headquarters, Harlem Heights,
October 12.

In May, 1777, Sherburne was colonel in command
of one of the sixteen additional battalions raised by
order of Congress, and in the fall and spring of 1778-9
his regiment appears to have been at Seaconnet. In
April, 1780, when they were quartered at Parasmus,
that place was attacked by a party of the enemy, who
fired the house which had been occupied by the regi-
ment and took fifty-two prisoners, including several
officers.

In May, 1782, Henry Sherburne, Esq., who had
retired from service in January, 1781, was a deputy
from Newport to the Rhode Island General Assembly.
In December, 1783, the officers of the Society of the
Cincinnati in Rhode Island were: Major-General
Nathanael Greene, president; Major-General James M.
Varnum, vice-president ; Colonel Henry Sherburne, sec-
retary, etc. In May, 1784, he was appointed to assist
the secretary in preparing the "Acts and Orders of the
General Assembly" for the press, and was authorized to
hire a suitable room for his accommodation at Provi-
dence at the expense of the State. He was also em-
ployed to settle the accounts between his native State
and the United States. In February, 1786, his pay for
services in the army of the United States, amounting to
£257:7:2, was ordered to be paid; part was paid at
the time and the balance, with interest, voted to be paid
in October, 1789. Toward the close of October, 1792,

1:123:]

he was elected by the two houses as General Treasurer
of the State, vice Joseph Clarke, deceased, a position
which he held until 1818. He died six years later,
aged about eighty-four years, collector for Newport,
Rhode Island.

Note 24, Page 34

Captain James Wilkinson, an aide-de-camp of Ar-
nold, on his way down the river with a message to Gen-
eral Sullivan at Sorel, discovered the enemy's vessels,
delayed by a failure of wind. This was about three
o'clock on Saturday afternoon, June 15, 1776. The
distance was not more than fourteen miles and, having
landed, the captain procured a horse, dashed back to
Longueuil, got across the river, gave the alarm, and
started off again to find Sullivan. The latter succeeded
in getting his men safely down to Chambly (it was
"sauve qui peut"), and Arnold, who had succeeded in
embarking the Montreal garrison about 7 P.M., was
but a few miles in advance.

Arnold took with him a quantity of rum, molasses,
wine, etc., which, as he wrote General Sullivan on the
following day from La Prairie, he had seized for the
use of the army. On the 17th they reached St. Johns,
and Isle-aux-Noix the following day. Here they rested
a week and did not arrive at Crown Point before July
I, "almost beat out, having had very little else but salt
pork and wheat meal for six weeks," says Colonel Wil-
liam Bond in a letter to his wife. ("New England
Genealogical Register," Vol. IV, p. 71.)

At Isle-aux-Noix, on June 23, only sixteen of Patter-
son's regiment drew rations, and, writes General Sulli-
van to Washington the next day, "as but five of these
were fit for duty, I have just ordered them on to Crown
Point to join the rest of their regiment who are there,
all sick."

Note 25, Page 38

General Gates, with the remnants of Patterson's,
Stark's, Read's, and Poor's regiments from the North-
ern Army, left Albany December 2, reached Goshen
on the 8th, and the Moravian settlement of Bethlehem,
by way of Minisink on the Delaware, on the evening
of the 15th, Leaving this point on the 17th, he joined
Washington three days later at his headquarters in the
village of Newtown, on a small branch of the Nesham-
iny. Sullivan arrived the same day with Lee's divi-
sion, and on the 24th Gates set out for Baltimore. It
was on Christmas night that the commander-in-chief,
accompanied by Sullivan and Greene, crossed the Dela-
ware about eight miles above Trenton at M'Conkey's
Ferry (now Taylorsville or Washington's Crossing)
with some 2400 men and twenty pieces of artillery
under Colonel Knox.

Note 26, Page 42

"On Christmas-day in seventy-six,
Our ragged troops, with bayonets fix'd,

For Trenton marched away.
The Delaware see ! the boats below !
The light obscured by hail and snow !
But no signs of dismay."

— Old Song.

Sullivan's division came down the river road and
encountered the British advance near Rutherford's
Place, at the southwestern part of the town. The
enemy endeavored to form a battery in King (Warren)
Street, near where the canal-feeder crosses the way,
but Captain William Washington and Lieutenant James
Monroe (afterward President) rushed forward with a
small party and, driving off the artillerymen, captured
two of the pieces just as the gunners were about to
fire.

1^1

Colonel Rahl fell by a musket-ball fired by Captain
Frederick Frelinghuysen, of New Jersey. "The ghosts
of forty of his countrymen accompanied him; and very
nearly looo were made prisoners," says Weems. "The
enemy laid down their arms on the field between the
Presbyterian Church and Park Place, then called the
Old Iron Works," according to Lossing. The trophies
were six brass field-pieces, lOOO stands of arms, twelve
drums, and four colors. These latter, the first cap-
tured by General Washington, included the splendid
Anspacher flag, afterward in the museum at Alex-
andria. The first flag taken during the war and sus-
pended over the speaker's chair in Congress was the
regimental one of the garrison at St. Johns, Canada,
which surrendered to General Montgomery in Novem-
ber, 1775.

Captain John Polhemus, of the ist New Jersey
Regiment, says in his diary that the prisoners were con-
fined "in Newtown jail and yard. There being a severe
snowstorm the oflicers were quartered in the same
house with General Patterson and myself." The men
were allowed their baggage and sent off to the western
counties of Pennsylvania with their packs unsearched.

Note 27, Page 50

In several books published toward the beginning of
the eighteenth century, giving descriptions or represen-
tations of the world's marine flags, we find the flag of
New England.** English works depict it as red, with
a red cross of St. George on a white canton, in the
first quarter of which is the green pine-tree placed on
the Massachusetts coinage as early as 1652. French

^ See article on "New England and the United States Flag" by
the writer in "Notes and Queries," London, January, 1862, pp. 72-
74; also "Revolutionary Uniforms and Flags" in Potter's American
Monthly, January, 1876, Vol. VI, pp. 31-34.

[;i263

J

and Dutch works describe the flag as blue, similarly
cantoned, bearing in the first quarter "une sphere
celeste," typical of America, usually called the New
World. The writer has a chart published at Augs-
burg during the American Revolution, in which the flag
still appears. ^*^

The Massachusetts Council in April, 1776, resolved
that their armed cruisers should carry a white flag with
a green pine-tree and the inscription "An Appeal to
Heaven," being the same as had been raised during the
previous fall over the Continental floating batteries
around Boston. We know, too, that it was borne by
at least one of the small armed vessels fitted out by
General Washington which had the misfortune to fall
into the hands of the enemy before the close of 1775.
To this device of the tree Manley had, in the Cumber-
land flag, added the snake and motto which appeared
September, 1765, after the passage of the Stamp Act,
as a heading to the Constitutional Courant, a single
sheet printed at Burlington, New Jersey. In 1774 the
Massachusetts Spy also adopted this motto and device.

As the United States flag of thirteen alternate red
and white horizontal stripes, with thirteen white stars
on a blue canton, was adopted by Congress June 14,
1777, and as Manley was a captain in the regular naval
service though temporarily in command of a Massa-
chusetts privateer, it would appear that he regarded
"the stars and stripes" as peculiar to a national vessel
of war.

Note 28, Page 53

Vice-Admiral Byron, of the Princess Royal, in his
report to the Admiralty dated from Gros Islet Bay,
St. Lucie, February 4, 1779, has the following: "The

^^ The same chart gives the American national striped ensign
with a golden "fleur-de-lis" over the stars, complimentary to the
French alliance.

[127]

Pomona frigate arrived here the 2d inst., and at Bar-
badoes the 29th of last month, having made the pas-
sage to that island in twenty-six days from Spithead.
Captain (Hon. William) Waldegrave fell in with and
took an American privateer of twenty guns, called the
Cumberland, about ten leagues to windward of Bar-
badoes, after a chase of several hours. She had been
but a short time from Boston, and had only taken a
transport from Newfoundland, with some recruits for
the Nova Scotia volunteers; which transport was dis-
masted on the coast of America, and the Venus retook
her with all the recruits close in with Martinique. The
Cumberland is a new ship and sails very fast; she was
commanded by a Mr. Manley, the same person who
commanded the frigate called the Hancock when she
was taken." (Almon's "Remembrancer," Vol. VII,
p. 288.)

Note 29, Page 57

In December, 18 1 1, Dr. John Greenwood was visited
by Captain Thomas Pratt, of Chelsea, Massachusetts,
whose son. Dr. Thomas Pratt (Harvard College, 18 15,
M.D. 1 818), died 1820. Greenwood and Pratt were
then the only known survivors of the Cumberland's
crew.

Note 30, Page 59

In the prison at Barbadoes the authorities had con-
fined an old Jew, from whom Greenwood learned a
certain song which he was accustomed to sing fre-
quently in after life. The first verse, to the air of the
"Countess of Coventry's Minuet," was as follows:

"This world, my dear Myra, is full of deceit,
And friendship's a jewel we seldom can meet;
How strange does it seem when in looking around,
That source of content is so scarce to be found."

Other special favorites with him were the "Massa-
chusetts Song of Liberty," which first appeared in 1768,
sung to the air of "Hearts of Oak":

"Then join hand in hand, brave Americans all,
By uniting we stand, by dividing we fall";

and Dibdin's "Sea Song" :

"In storms, when clouds obscure the sky.
And thunders roll and lightnings fly,
In midst of all these dire alarms,
I think, my Sally, on thy charms" ;

and the "Drum" :

"Come each gallant lad, who for pleasure
quits care.

To the drum, to the drum, to the drum-
head with spirits repair;

Each recruit takes his glass.

Each young soldier toasts his lass.

While the drum beats tattoo (bis)

We retire the sweet night to pass."

"Another of father's songs," says his son, "remained
impressed on my memory from youth in the following
curious gibberish :

" *Dong song, carry me over,
Vive le roi, dunkerney' ;

until one day it burst upon me that this was the French
war-cry of 1792 :

" 'Dansons la Carmagnole,
Vive le son du canon I' "

1:1293

Note 31, Page 63

David Porter, born 1754; a native of Massachusetts
("New England Historical and Genealogical Regis-
ter," Vol. XXX, p. 460) ; captain in 1778 of the Mary-
land armed sloop Delight, six guns; first lieutenant,
July 7, 1779, of the New Hampshire armed ship Put-
nam, Captain D. Waters, of the Penobscot expedition,
burned August 14; captain of the Boston ship Tartar,
twenty-eight guns, 150 men, from about November,
1779, to May, 1780; captain of the Boston letter-of-
marque ship Aurora, sixteen guns, from October, 1780,
to May, 178 1. A list of the crew's names, ages, etc.,
on the last-named ship was sworn to by him, June 22,
178 1, before Justice Joseph Greenleaf of Suffolk
County, and he is described as being in "stature five
feet, ten inches." In November, 1783, he was per-
mitted to keep the "North End Coffee Home and
Tavern" in Boston, opposite Hancock's Wharf. He
removed to Baltimore and was appointed, August 5,
1792, to the command of the U. S. revenue cutter
Active, vice Simon Goss, and died in 1808. His eldest
son. Commodore David Porter, was born February
I, 1780, in Charter Street, Boston; captain, July 2,
1 8 12; and died March 3, 1843. Commodore Porter
was the father of Admiral David Porter, U.S.N. , who
died in Washington, District of Columbia, February
13, 1 89 1, aged seventy-eight years.

Note 32, Page 66

Boston papers of March 6, 1780, give accounts by
which we learn that about the 4th inst. there had ar-
rived at Portsmouth a ship of 350 tons, mounting six-
teen 6-pounders, prize to the privateer ship Tartar,
Captain Porter, out of Boston. She was bound from
New York for Jamaica for a freight home, and had a
cargo of provisions, powder, shot, etc. She had sailed

from New York with the West India fleet and was in
sight of the shipping in Port Royal, Jamaica, when
Captain Porter fell in with her, but made no resistance.
The Tartar also took a sloop with rum, molasses,
cotton, etc., which had not arrived.

The Continental Journal^ also the Independent
Chronicle, of March 9, 1780, both of Boston, give an
extract from a Martinique letter of February 6 refer-
ring to the above prize as having been sent to Ports-
mouth. Porter also took the ship Wallace, William
Stephenson, master.

Note 33, Page 67

In 1779 Captain John (or Jonathan) Carnes com-
manded the Hector, eighteen guns, 150 men, which, as
one of Commodore Saltonstall's squadron in the
Penobscot expedition, was destroyed August 14 of that
year. The brig General Lincoln, Captain John Carnes,
from Port-au-Prince to Salem, with West India pro-
duce, was taken Sunday, May 21, 1780, by the Iris,
32, Captain James Hawker, then returning from
Charleston, South Carolina, to New York,^^ where on
July 6 her crew was paid their prize money.

In March, 1781, Captain Carnes, of Salem, who was
fitting at Martinique for another cruise, had sent in a
prize brig with 200 pipes of Madeira wine. By an
article in the Independent Chronicle (Salem), May 7,
1 78 1, we learn that his brig Montgomery had arrived,
having sent in three prizes; he had also engaged a
large British cutter and lost his lieutenant and had five
wounded. Before August he had again sailed from
Salem in the ship Porus,^^ twenty 9-pounders, 130 men,
which the Essex Gazette (Salem) of February 28,

'^''^ Riving ton's Gazette, May 31, 1780.

^~ Essex Gazette, February 27, 1783, states that "the privateer
ship Porus had arrived at Martinique with a prize ship."

1782, states had been "lately taken into Barbadoes."
A sloop with forty hogsheads of rum, prize to the
Poms, Captain Carnes, from St. Martins to Halifax,
was carried into Salem early in June, 1782, at which
time Carnes himself was a naval prisoner in New
York, and we hear of him as being again carried a
prisoner into the same port in October, when in com-
mand of the ship Mohawk, twenty guns, eighty men,
from Beverly.

Note 34, Page 71

"The commissary for the naval prisoners was a
Scotchman named David Sproat, a fellow whose face
put his scarlet coat out of countenance." (Dunlap's
"History of New York.")

"Hell has no mischief like a thirsty throat,
Nor one tormentor like your David Sproat."

— Frenau's "British Prison-ship."

"I do hereby command all Captains, Commanders,
Masters and Prize Masters of ships and other vessels,
who bring naval prisoners into this port, immediately
after their arrival to send a list of their names to this
office, No. 33 in Maiden Lane, where they will receive
an order how to dispose of them.

"David Sproat,
Commissary General, N. P."^^
New York, April 28, 1780.

Note 35, Page 71

Edward Watkeys's soap and candle factory. No. 19
Nassau Street, was burned on the night of August 24,
1808; his wife, daughter, two children, and a servant
perished in the flames. Mr. Watkeys died about
March, 18 13, aged seventy-three years.

^^ Riving ton's Royal Gazette, June 30, 1780.

Note 36, Page 73

Probably the Race Horse, brig, six guns, fifteen men.
Captain Nathaniel Thayer, of Massachusetts. A fast
schooner of this name, about forty tons, was sold at
auction, Griffin's Wharf, May 23, 1780.

Note 37, Page 77

General Cornwallis arrived from the Carolinas and
took command. May 20, 1781, of the Department of
the South at Petersburg, Virginia, uniting with the late
General Phillips's forces, and sending Arnold, whom
Phillips had been sent from New York to reinforce,
back to that city. At the time Lafayette was at Rich-
mond on the James River, but moved down later on to
Williamsburg. Yorktown and Gloucester had been
taken possession of by Cornwallis on August 4, and
at the end of the month De Grasse entered the Chesa-
peake with the French fleet.

Washington and Rochambeau arrived at camp Sep-
tember 14, as did, within the next ten days, the greater
part of the American army. Investiture of the enemy
at York began on the 28th, and a surrender was made
October 19.

Note 38, Page 78

The Virginia governor, Lord Dunmore, with his few
armed vessels (the Fowey, Otter, and Dunmore) and
his motley flotilla of light craft, in all seventy-two sail,
driven out from his stronghold on Gwynn's Island by
the American shore batteries, came to anchor off the
mouth of the Potomac July 11, 1776. In order to re-
plenish his stock of provisions, wood, and water, and
to procure recruits for the loyal regiment which he
had inaugurated, a short excursion up to St. George
Island, Hopkins Island, Nanticoke Point, and the op-
posite eastern shore of the Chesapeake was made by

1:1333

the Fowey and some of the tenders. Early in August
Dunmore was still lying off the Potomac but had
burned some of his small craft which were unfit for
sea, and had despatched others to the south with tory
refugees who sought safety in Florida or the West
Indies. On the yth of the month he himself sailed
from the Capes, and a week later Sir Peter Parker
brought his lordship's fleet of twenty-five sail into
Sandy Hook, whence he departed on November 13
for England with a large number of transports con-
voyed by the Fowey and Active.

Governor Dunmore's pilot on the Chesapeake was
Joseph Whayland, Jr., of Dorchester County, Mary-
land, who in July, 1776, had command of three tenders
at Smyth's Island, On or about the 15th, being in a
creek making out of Holland Straits on a small
schooner with three men, he was seized by a detach-
ment of Colonel William C. Traverse's Corps from
Hooper Straits under Major Daniel Fallen, and on
August 3 the Maryland Committee of Safety sent
him to prison until their next convention. Subse-
quently he was committed, September 12, to the log
jail in Frederick County, to be confined until he should
make restitution to a party named White whose sloop
he had caused to be destroyed, and was ordered to
give such security to the Council of Safety as they
should judge necessary for his future good behavior.
From the jail at Annapolis he petitioned the conven-
tion, October 28, being naked and without money,
for clothing lost at the time of his capture, and Major
Fallen was directed to deliver over all of said clothing
then in his possession.

Whether Whayland was released or escaped from
confinement does not appear, but he eventually made
his way to New York, where Admiral Arbuthnot en-
couraged privateering, and probably commenced his
marauding when the admiral lay in Lynnhaven Bay.

[:'343

Intelligence from Baltimore, August 21, 178 1, states
that several picaroons from New York, infesting the
Chesapeake Bay had lately taken some small vessels
near the mouth of the Potomac. The following spring
five of these small privateers were reported to be armed
barges or gunboats, and about May, 1782, some of
them attacked and took an armed boat from Annapolis
near Tangier Island; it was a severe fight and the com-
mander. Captain Grayson, and several of his men were
slain. An Alexandria letter of July 12 says that the
Salem brig Ranger, eight guns and twenty men, which
had sailed the week before for the West Indies, was
attacked by two barges on the night of the 5th,
between 12 and i P.M., while lying off St. Marys near
the mouth of the Potomac. They were commanded by
the noted Whayland and one Barry, and after a severe
fight of an hour and a half Captain T. Simmons, of the
Ranger, drove them off with pikes, it being too close to
use his guns. Whayland himself was wounded and one
of his men, a negro, was taken prisoner, while Barry and
twenty-four men were killed and buried near by on St.
George Island. Captain Simmons lost one man, and
he and his first mate being wounded, they returned to
Annapolis. Later the Ranger, Captain Perkins, sailed
for Havana and finally reached Salem, Massachusetts,
on December 18, 1782.

Just after this last event, that is, on July 8, the
schooner Greyhound, "a beautiful boat," laden with
salt, peas, pork, bacon, and dry-goods, belonging to
Furnival and Gerock, of Baltimore, was taken in
Hooper Straits "by that notorious renegade-pirate
Joe Whaland," whose lieutenant, Timmons, had re-
cently executed two brothers on the eastern shore.
Mr. Furnival, who was on board the Greyhound, the
skipper, and all the hands were detained for twenty-
four hours on the barge, and after being plundered and
robbed of everything, were set on shore at a place called

ens:

Dan (or Dames) Quarter, near Devil's Isle, which at
the time harbored a number of desperate adventurers.
While on shore and before being released, they saw
"several other bay craft fall Into the fangs of the same
vultures." The prize was sent up to New York.

Later on the Lady Washington schooner, with flour
from Baltimore to Havana, was taken In the bay "by
an armed British galley called the Revenge, commanded
by a certain Joseph Whayland." Retaken at sea, the
prize was sent Into Philadelphia In August and the case
was tried before a Court of Admiralty at the State
House on September 17.

Saturday, November 30, three refugee barges from
New York attacked the Maryland State galley Pro-
tector, which was taken after Its commander. Captain
Whalley, was killed and sixty-five out of his seventy-five
men either slain or wounded. This was said to be the
most bloody conflict during the war, and Is mentioned
in RIvIngton's New York Gazette of December 28.

Early In March, 1783, seven or eight armed barges,
manned principally by white and black refugees, were
cruising In the bay In quest of plunder and had taken
some small craft. A party of these desperadoes had
landed from the notorious Joe Whayland's barge and
burned the dwelling-house and buildings of Mr. Benja-
min Mackall on the Patuxent, in Calvert County,
Maryland; the loss was estimated at £3000. After
this exploit Whayland was reported as having been "in
chase of his own father who has arrived here (Phila-
delphia) and thinks himself fortunate In having escaped
the horrid fangs of his graceless, renegade son."

Both Gaines and RIvIngton mention two prize
schooners of the Victory privateer. Captain Whayland
(or Wallen) , which had arrived In New York from the
Chesapeake on Sunday, March 30, 1783. What was
the ultimate fate of this noted refugee I fail to learn;
probably, judging from the following Information, a

short shrift and a long rope. A Baltimore letter of
August 24, 1784, states that he was still the terror of
the Chesapeake, committing daily depredations on the
coasting vessels and murdering or plundering their
crews. "We are informed," says a letter of the times, ^^
"that the vessel that Whayland employs for the above
infamous purpose is a topsail schooner with black sides
and bottom, full of men, and draws but three and a half
feet water. He has also several boats well armed,
so that it is dangerous for any vessels to go within sight
of him. How long this fellow may reign is uncertain,
as there is no armed vessel here to go in quest of him."

Note 39, Page 84

With the sloop-of-war Otter, her two tenders, and
her several small prizes at the mouth of the Patapsco
River, it was resolved by the Baltimore Committee
on Friday, March 8, 1776, that the trading schooner
Resolution, Captain William Wand, belonging to the
firm of Lux and Bowley, should "in the present emer-
gency" be fitted out as a tender for the State ship De-
fence, Captain James Nicholson. She was to carry
eight or ten 3-pounders and a crew of seventy men, and
it was thought she could be got ready by Sunday morn-
ing. Her services were not required on this occasion,
however, as on the 9th the Otter made sail down the
bay and Nicholson returned up the river with some of
the prizes which had been abandoned. The names of
several sailing captains had been proposed as officers
for the tender when, on April 26, the Committee of
Safety directed Captain Nicholson to officer the
schooner, which then had a crew of forty men, out of
his own ship. Afterward, September 12, the commit-
tee was empowered by the State Convention to sell the
Resolution, but some three weeks later they were

^*New Jersey Gazette, September 13, 1784.
1:1373

directed to fit out, load, and send her on a voyage at
the expense and risk of the State. Accordingly the
schooner sailed for Martinique about December 9,
1776, with a cargo of tobacco, flour, and breadstuffs,
and with Captain John Carey in command.

Note 40, Page 86

The Santa Margaretta, a Spanish 44-gun prize cap-
tured off Lisbon in 1779 by the Tartar, Captain Fairfax,
was taken into commission and fitted out at Sheerness,
and the command given to Captain Elliot Salter early
in 1 78 1. She carried thirty-two guns and 220 men.
During the summer she sent some prizes into Cork, and
sailing thence with a convoy of forty-two sail, reached
New York October 7. She was in the rear division of
the fleet which left the latter port on October 19 for the
relief of General Cornwallis, and returning to New
York she continued to cruise from that quarter during
the following year (1782). On August i she returned
to the harbor chased by six French men-of-war, one of
them an 84-gun ship; a few days before, after a long
close engagement off Cape Henlopen, she had taken the
frigate UAmazone, thirty-six guns, 300 men, but was
obliged to abandon her prize, though some of the crew
were brought in. On October 13 other prizes were sent
in, one of them the Salem privateer Hendrick, captured
September 29 off Bermuda. On her return from her last
cruise during the war she left Port Royal Harbor,
Jamaica, March 26, 1783, and arrived at New York
April 14.

Note 41, Page 86

Henry Nicholls commanded in the West Indies the
197-ton cutter Barracouta, fourteen guns, twelve swiv-
els, sixty men, which was bought in 1782 and paid off
in March, 1783. Toward the close of the year he was
in command of the 14-gun cutter Echo, In the New-
foundland Squadron of Vice-Admlral John Campbell.

[138]

Commissioned a captain December i, 1788, he com-
manded in 1 79 1 the Formidable, ninety-eight guns,
flag-ship of the Hon. J. L. Gower, rear-admiral of the
White, and in the Royal Sovereign, iio guns, the
flag-ship of Thomas Graves, Esq., admiral of the Blue,
he was in the fight of June i, 1794, off Ushant, and was
subsequently presented with a gold medal.

Note 42, Page 88

The author of the memoir, having returned to his
Boston home in the spring of 1783, sailed throughout
the summer as mate of a brig bound for Ocoa on the
south coast of Santo Domingo. As he did not like the
captain, a Frenchman, he remained for a time
on the island and returned during the winter
on a small schooner. After working for a
few weeks for his father, a young friend, Mr.
Samuel Richards (who had served an apprentice-
ship in Edward Tuckerman's bakery and was selling
knickknacks, gingerbread, etc., in the town), proposed
that if he should buy a small fishing schooner and load
her with a cargo of Yankee notions, Greenwood might
navigate her down to Baltimore. This scheme was car-
ried out. At Baltimore his former employers wanted
him to take the command of a new brig for the island
of Madeira, but at the earnest entreaty of Richards he
declined the offer and helped his friend barter off his
precious freight. On the return trip, as the owner de-
clined to pay the expense of a pilot, Greenwood brought
the vessel safely through the Vineyard Sound on a
stormy night and made a temporary harbor near Cape
Cod. He made three more trading trips for Mr. Rich-
ards, when the latter sold the schooner and began im-
porting hardware from England. ^"^

^•"' He died, a rich man, at Dedham, in August, 1844, aged eighty-
seven.

It came about that with business in a state of stagna-
tion after the war, Greenwood, by this time a thorough-
bred seaman, could no longer find employment, and so,
after again working for a time in his father's shop at
the turning business, he set out for New York. He
traveled, as he says, with a light heart; in his pocket
eight dollars which he had saved up, and in his kit, with
some tools, a few fifes, drumsticks, lemon squeezers,
and hum-tops. At No. 24 Old Slip he found his elder
brother, Isaac Greenwood, occupying a room in Mr.
Robertson's house and there pursuing his father's pro-
fession. He himself procured board and lodging at
twenty shillings a week with a Mr. Lewis Harrington,
at No. 199 Water Street, on the northeasterly corner
of Wall Street, in a house belonging to Mr. Archibald
Kennedy. His eight dollars he lent to a friend to keep
him from jail, and then tried, unsuccessfully however,
to get to sea again. Finally he hired half a shop in the
same building in which he boarded from a Mr. J.
Quincy, instrument maker, and helped that gentleman
to rub up and repair old quadrants and compasses.
He also made some hickory walking-sticks, and these,
as the streets were dangerous after nightfall, found a
temporary sale. Altogether he earned just about
enough to pay his expenses, but had to debar himself,
he says, of a pint of beer when the day's labor was over.

After a while, however, he bought out the business
of Mr. Quincy, who returned to Boston or Salem, and
as his brother Isaac ^® had by this time left New York
and located himself in Providence, Rhode Island, John
Greenwood, at the instance of his friend Dr. John
Gamage, also took up the profession of his father in
Boston, and carried it on in connection with his business
of a turner and mathematical instrument maker. He
succeeded so well that he soon had to send for his two

^^ He returned to the city in 1810, after the death of his brother
Clark Greenwood.

[HO]

younger brothers, Clark and William P. Greenwood,
to help him.

At the time of his decease, in November, 1819, Dr.
John Greenwood's remains were laid in the family vault
of the old Brick Church, corner of Beekman Street and
Chatham (Park) Row. They were removed later
on to the vault in the Marble Cemetery, and are now
at rest in Greenwood Cemetery.

ChO

Appendix A, Page 13

Two regiments of minute-men were organized in
Berkshire County, Massachusetts, prior to the outbreak
of the American Revolution. Colonel John Patterson
commanded the regiment raised in the northern and
central parts of the county, with Jeremiah Cady, of
Gageborough (afterward Windsor), as major. Pat-
terson reached Cambridge before May 14, 1775, with
five companies commanded by Captains Samuel Sloan,
Nathan Watkins, Charles Dibble, David Noble, and
Thomas Williams. Captain Noble, of PIttsfield, when
his company enlisted for eight months, is said to have
sold his farm lands, armed his men, and put them into
a uniform of blue coats faced with white, and buckskin
breeches. A young doctor, Timothy Childs, was lieu-
tenant in this company; on July 5 he was appointed
surgeon of the regiment and resigned in 1777.

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On June 17, the day of the Bunker Hill fight, the
company of Captain Theodore T. Bliss was joined to
Colonel Patterson's regiment, and on the 26th the
Massachusetts Provincial Congress ordered the com-
panies, if they were about full, of Captain John McKin-

stry, of Spencer, New York, and Captain Porter,

of Becket, to join; this order, however, was not carried
out by Porter. Captain Goodrich's company was com-
posed mostly of Stockbridge Indians, who were sent
home during the summer by General Washington, and
in September the captain joined Arnold's expedition to
Quebec. Lieutenant Pixly subsequently attained to the
rank of colonel and settled on Campbell's Location,
west of Owego. In the Essex Gazette, August 17-24,
1775, Lemuel Allen, of Ashford, Connecticut, wearing
"a blue coat with buff colour'd Cuffs and Lapels," is
advertised as a deserter from Captain William Good-
rich's company, in Colonel Patterson's regiment,
Charlestown Camp.

Captain John McKinstry, Jr., was born at London-
derry, New Hampshire, in 1745, the son of John
McKinstry, a native of Armagh, Ireland, said to have
been a captain in the British army. The son served
in the French and Indian wars, married Elizabeth
Knox, of Rumford (or Concord), and settled in Noble-
town,^ a tract some five miles square in the southerly
part of Hillsdale Township (Columbia County, New
York), a section which later on came west of the divid-
ing line between the States of Massachusetts and New
York. Captain (subsequently Colonel) McKinstry
died at Livingston, New York, in 1822; his son George
died in 1866, aged ninety-four years, the father of
Augustus McKinstry, of Hudson, New York, and of
Commodore James Paterson McKinstry, U.S.N. , who
died in February, 1873, aged sixty-six years.

^ In the northern part of Hillsdale was a similar tract called
Spencertown.

1:1443

In the "Massachusetts Revolutionary Rolls," Vol.
LVI, pp. 172-177^, we have a return, dated October
6' I775» "of the names and places of residence of all
the Commissioned, non-Commissioned Officers and Sol-
diers which have enlisted in the 26th Regiment of Foot
now in the Continental Service."

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Captain Wyman's company had fifty-one rank and
file, the majority from Uxbridge; there were five ser-
geants, four corporals, two drums, and two fifes; a
private, John McGrath, "residence unknown," wounded
June 17, died September 20, 1775, was the only cas-
ualty in the regiment on the day of the Bunker Hill
fight. In Captain Morse's company a number of the
men were from Natick; one private, James Greenwood,
was from Framingham. Most of the men in Captain
Dibble's company were from Lenox. Captain Noble's
men were from Pittsfield and Richmont; the captain
died at Crown Point in July, 1776. The regiment
numbered, during the summer of 1775, over 600^ rank
and file, counting the Indians, etc., under Captain
Goodrich.

An advertisement of September 21, 1775, in the
Essex Gazette, notes the desertion of William Merry,
of Biddeford, in Saco, a private in "Captain Theodore
Bliss's company, in Colonel Patterson's regiment, in
Charlestown Camp," wearing a fustian coat, striped
gingham waistcoat, and a pair of velvet breeches.

^ Of this number over thirty were on command, after Septem-
ber, in Quebec, nine were in the train, eight had been discharged,
seven had deserted and one returned, and five had died.

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where Dr. Franklin, Carroll and Chase lodped

1 n May, 1775.

Appendix B, Page 97

Colonel Thomas Walker^ (uncle of John Green-
wood) left Canada during the winter of 1775-6 in
order to prefer certain charges against General Rich-
ard Prescott of the British army, then a prisoner of
war; he hoped also to obtain from Congress some in-
demnity for the loss of his farm-house and potash fac-
tory at L'Assomption. Brigadier-General Wooster's
note for $400, loaned him by Walker "for the use of
the Army," was taken up March 23, 1776, and paid in
specie, and on the 28th his Memorial was presented and
ordered to lie on the table. His grievances are amply
set forth in a deposition, sworn to in Philadelphia on
April 24. (Force's "American Archives," Series 4,
Vol. IV, col. 1 175-9.)

Mrs. Thomas Walker and Mrs. James Price set out
from Montreal for Philadelphia May 11, 1776, under
the escort of Dr. Benjamin Franklin, one of the three
commissioners who had been appointed by Congress for
visiting Canada and who had been lodged in Walker's
house. "En route" between Albany and New York, to
insure the comfort of the ladies, the doctor accepted the
offer of General Schuyler's chariot. Colonel Walker
and his wife lived subsequently in Boston while their
children remained in Canada, though Judge James
Walker visited his Yankee cousins before the close of
the century.

The Massachusetts House of Representatives, April
27, 1777, chose Colonel Thomas Walker and Colonel
Solomon Lovell to serve on the committee of Fortifica-
tions, in which choice the Council concurred. Some
years later, in a letter of December 8, 1784, Walker's
case was strongly recommended by Samuel Adams to

^ Chief Justice William Hay says Walker was an Englishman by
birth. There was another Thomas Walker who died in Montreal
August 29, 1768, and was buried on the 30th.

Richard H. Lee, President of the Congress at Trenton.
At the time of the colonel's death, which took place
July 8, 1788, aged seventy years, a well-deserved trib-
ute to his character and services appeared in the Massa-
chusetts Centinel (Vol. IX, No. 34). His widow, to-
gether with Paul D. and Daniel Sargent, gave bonds
on his (intestate) estate.

The widow, Martha Walker, under Acts of Con-
gress passed April 7, 1798, and February 18, 1801, for
the relief of the refugees from Canada and Nova Sco-
tia during the Revolutionary War, became entitled to
a grant for 2240 acres of land. She removed ulti-
mately to Quebec and, living there with her daughter,
Mrs. Jane Cox, and the Woolseys, died about 1825,
aged over ninety years. Her portrait was in the pos-
session of her grandson. Captain Edward Cox, of King-
sey, Canada, when he wrote me in 186 1. A letter to
Mr. John Greenwood, of New York, dated Dedham,
Massachusetts, April, 18 16, is preserved, in which his
only sister, Mrs. Mary Gay, says: "If you go to Can-
ada in July, pray enquire if Madam (Martha) Walker
is still alive; she is Mother's sister; her son was Judge
(James) Walker of Montreal, — he is dead. Uncle
(Robert) Woolsey lives in Quebeck."

The Petition for a General Assembly from the Prov-
ince of Quebec to the King was signed in January, 1774,
by Zach. Macauly, head of the Quebec Committee;
Thomas Walker, head of the Montreal Committee;
Robert Woolsey, Richard Walker, James Price,
Thomas Walker, Jr., and others.

CHILDREN

I. Thomas Walker, born circa 175 1; petitions,
Quebec, November 2, 1779, for license to practise law
in any of the Courts of Record in the province; peti-
tions, Montreal, June 12, 1780, for a commission of

attorney-at-law. When In the fall of 1787 inquiry was
made, before the chief justice, into the conduct of the
judges of the Court of Common Pleas both at Quebec
and Montreal, the brothers Thomas and James Walker
were among those examined. He married, first, a
widow whose maiden name was Sayres; secondly, in
November, 1782, at Montreal, Jane Finlay, probably a
daughter of Hugh Finlay, the postmaster-general. His
only daughter, Louisa Nash Walker, died, single. In

1854.

2. James Walker, born 1756; appointed in 1794 a
judge of the King's Bench, district of Montreal. He
applied for a grant of land in 1793, and afterward pur-
chased the seigniory of St. Charles on the Chambly.
He was twice married, the second time in April, 1782,
to Margaret Hughes, daughter of Town Major James
Hughes, who died September 11, 1785, aged eighty-
seven years. James Walker died in Montreal, January
31, 1800, aged forty-four years, and was interred In the
old Dorchester Street English burylng-ground. His
widow, on petition, received an annual pension of f 120.
He left three daughters :

i. Julian Walker, born May 13, baptized May 15,
1785, In Montreal; married, June, 1806, James Suther-
land ; married, second, December, 1 8 1 1 , Jean M. Mon-
delet, notary and member of Parliament, who died In
1840.

il. Amelia Anne Walker, born 1787; married Cap-
tain Samuel Romilly, of the Royal Engineers; died
June, 1824, and was buried near her father.

Hi. Caroline Walker; married Lieutenant Thomas
Marshall Harris, of the Royal Staff Corps, etc., son of
Major-General John Harris, R.A.

3. Alexander Walker; captain In the 7th Royal
Fusiliers, March 3, 1780; aide-de-camp In Canada to
Prince Edward, afterward the Duke of Kent, colonel
of the regiment; resigned about 1792 and next year

applied for a grant of land in Maddington and Hunters-
town; died unmarried.

4. Anne Walker; brought up her orphan niece,
Louisa N. Walker; died, single, in England, 1835.

5. Jane Walker, born 1764 or 1767; educated in
England; returning during the war, the vessel was
brought, a prize, into Boston; she married, 1784, at
Quebec, Lieutenant (later Lieutenant-Colonel) Wil-
liam Cox, R.A., who died about 18 10; she died in Eng-
land about 1848, aged eighty-four years. Lieutenant
W. Cox is called by General Haldimand, "son of the
Governor of Gaspe," who was Captain Nicholas Cox,
in 1753 of the 47th Foot, and, ten years later. Equerry
of the Duke of Gloucester; he died, January 8, 1793,
lieutenant-governor of Gaspe, and his widow, a Miss
Wickham, of Newport, Rhode Island, received an an-
nual pension of £100. Governor N. Cox was a grand-
son of Sir Richard Cox, knighted November 5, 1692,
and afterward Baronet Cox of Dummanway and Lord
High Chancellor of Ireland, 1703-7. Jane Walker
left three children:

i. Frances Cox; married, first, Lieutenant-Colonel
Hubert de Burgh, of the Bengal Cavalry; second, in
1835, Sir Frederick de Abbott, Knight, of the Bengal
Engineers, knighted 1854, and living 1869, aged sixty-
one years, a retired major-general of the East Indian
Service, at Broom Hall, Shooter's Hill, Kent, England.

ii. Cox; married Lieutenant-Colonel Peter J.

Willats of the 48th Foot.

iii. Edward Cox; entered army in 1804 as an en-
sign; retired about 1824, when captain in the 6th Foot
(or 1st Warwickshire Regiment) ; was living, 1861, at
Kingsey on the St. Francis River, some sixty-five miles
north of east from Montreal. In December, 1909, two

ladies, Miss Cox and her sister, Mrs. Ada Austin,

widow, were living in Montreal at No. 400 Sherbrooke
Street, the last of Captain Cox's family. Mrs. Austin

had a miniature portrait of her great-grandmother,
Mrs. Martha (Tans) Walker, and at that time por-
traits of Colonel Thomas Walker and his wife were
in the Museum of the Chateau Ramezay, Notre Dame
Street, Montreal.

n'55]